To Come Home
by x-MJ-x
Summary: Two years, six months and seventeen days during which absence had been necessary and a half life had been lived. After so long out in the world alone, she's back and someone's in grave danger what must she do to come home again? Eventually Emily/ Hotch. Rated M for sensitive slightly more mature issues discussed.
1. Blind Hope and Whispers on the Wind

**Hey lovely people. **

**It's me again back with another Hotch / Emily centric story as the months roll on and we draw closer to finding out how Emily comes home. This is kind of my interpretation of what happens and will eventually lead to some Hotch/ Emily love... No more spoilers... **

**I should let you know that since this will be multi chaptered you may have to exercise patience with me, this will become my new baby and I will work on it until every chapter is at the best I feel it can be so that means it may take some time in between updates, but I'll be here plugging away and building it up. Sometimes my life gets in the way but writing offers me that escape so I'll always try to be working on something within a couple of days. **

**I would love to know what you think of this so feel free to let me know. **

**My author's note remains the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**P.S: The little Geography related rhyme used herein belongs to my dear friend Kim, we used it relentlessly when studying for out A Levels at school and for some reason it was in my head and it seemed to fit so it's here... not that you're reading but I love you anyway sweetie.**

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><p><em>~"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope." ~ Martin Luther King Junior. <em>

The crack of lightening which resounded in the air provided the perfect cover for the landing of a pair of boots on the upstairs landing of the dark, silent townhouse and the owner of said boots was thankful for this. The silence was unsettling as slowly the boots crept forward, away from the space directly beneath the skylight through which entry had been gained. It meant that the rescuer was probably too late, that the last hope of doing some good here had been extinguished and that thought was frightening.

After so much planning, after weeks of watching the house for the perfect opportunity, the rescuer had once again been beaten by the forces of darkness in a typical good over evil struggle. It had been looking likely that good would prevail as should always have been the way, but after tonight in the midst of this heavy and furious summer storm, once again evil had been proven stronger.

Still there was hope. There always had to be hope. It was the only thing that had been keeping the rescuer alive in the two years, six months and seventeen days during which absence had been necessary and a half life had been lived. One could never abandon hope; it was the only thing a foolish heart had left in a world which so clearly displayed evidence of evil's domination.

In the still blackness, it was difficult to focus on anything in particular, but that was the benefit of the weeks that had been spent surveying the house and mapping out the floor plan of its interior. It was the one advantage the rescuer had over the one who had gotten here first...

The silence became charged and in this atmosphere it became possible to take note of sounds which had previously not been noticeable. The slight creak of the pipes and the drip of a tap in the bathroom off to the left, the faint ticking of the grandfather clock which stood in the living room on the lowest level of the house and the sound of one's own stifled and nervous breathing as the dread of what might be discovered settled in the hot, moist air which filled the house. These were the sounds of a house in mourning, there was the distinctive yawning sob of the old floorboards underfoot as they realised the horrors of what had happened here tonight, as the fixtures of this majestic place suddenly came to life and grieved for the family to whom they had offered so much comfort and apparent safety. There was a sense of the dawning realisation that the help had come too late, that nothing could be done to save the innocents who had been sacrificed here. All of these thoughts seemed to spring to life as the one whose breath was held listened, as signs of life were checked for in vain...

Until...

A soft, strangely familiar sound floated through the air alerting the rescuer to the presence of another person, a survivor of this massacre. Only the hope that this could be true kept the rescuer calm now as the boots made their way along the corridor towards the door directly in their path... Hope was all that was left now and it was a hope that the right person had survived...

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><p>He held his breath, clutching at his copy of <em>National Geographic Magazine <em>and forcing himself to study the pictures accompanying the article on atmospheric layers he had been reading through in time for his Geography test tomorrow before all of this was started. In the limited light he could not clearly see the diagram but it hardly seemed to matter, he had it emblazoned upon his memory – he was skilled with tasks like that and in fact had even been told that he possessed certain qualities associated with having an _eidetic memory. _This was something he was proud of but which for obvious reasons, made him susceptible to the taunts of Jimmy McGovern and his gang. Not that he minded. Being noticed by them was better than being invisible. Or so he had thought. But tonight he wished for that invisibility , he wished he could have been anywhere but here, he wished he could wipe out the sound of a bloodcurdlingly familiar scream, but most of all he wished he wasn't so terrified for his life.

At first he had hidden here in the closet in silence, with only his own heavy, erratic breathing for company. He had curled up into a ball, the magazine resting on his lap and his hands covering his ears as he tried not to face the reality that he could still hear someone in the house. He was terrified and unlike so many times before when his horrific nightmares had torn him away from the world of dreams, there was no one here to offer him comfort. There was no warm, smiling face to sit on the edge of his bed and cool his forehead with a damp washcloth before placing a tender kiss to his cheek, there was no familiar, woody scent to fill his nostrils as a deep, rolling timbre read passages from Melville's _Moby Dick_ and most terrifyingly of all, he knew there would never be those things again. He knew this because in place of those comforting realities there was black emptiness and the sticky, putrid smell of what he knew was blood.

Now as he crouched here in the tiny closet, the magazine resting over his knees as he tried to imagine the kinds of questions Mr. Salter would ask just after first bell tomorrow, the only thing that was consoling him, stopping him from breaking down was the soft, gentle sound of _Pachelbel's Canon_ as played by the beloved classical Orchestra of those who had been lost here tonight.

It was by far his favourite piece and as it reached tense crescendos and then ebbed away in quiet ripples before building once more, he found that it steadied the racing of his heartbeat, calming his nerves and making it seem less of a reality that they were gone.

As a kind of peace came over him, he found himself forgetting that there was an intruder still in the house, that he was still in grave danger and only thoughts of his test filled his mind. It was the one thing that was keeping him sane right now – the thought that come morning and first light, when the storm had subsided and when his fear would seem less chilling and increasingly unfounded, school would still be there. Normality would still be there and this would be just another one of his nightmares, the kind he had been having for as long as he remembered.

In this resolute calmness, he turned his eyes towards the magazine, wondering if it would be safe enough to put on the torch he had had the sense to bring with him, but deciding against.

"_Troposphere, the lowest layer of the atmosphere, all weather occurs." _He whispered, cementing the rhyme in his head and envisioning this first layer of the atmosphere and all of its qualities. He tried not to concentrate too much on how his voice sounded: the strain there, the fear – the tiny mouse-like whisper which he did not recognise as he drew in a breath and tried to remember the name of the next layer. He knew it, he did, but the fear he felt now was arresting his heart, his senses and his ability to concentrate.

"_Stratosphere..." _He said aloud, but it was no use, he still heard that unfamiliar whisper echoing back at him.

"_Stratosphere" _He tried again, forcing his voice to sound vaguely normal and trying to focus his mind on remembering the qualities of that atmospheric levels but he was becoming distracted by the fact that the piece which had been playing had come to an end and in its place he could hear the sounds of the lonely house – the creak of the pipes, the drip of a tap, the ticking of the grandfather clock and... Footsteps...

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><p>His hands immediately went to his ears again covering them defensively and trying to block out the possibility of hearing those footsteps again, footsteps which had sounded alarmingly close. He drew his knees in tight to his body, making himself as small as possible by instinct – if he felt small perhaps he couldn't be seen by the intruder...<p>

He buried his face into the thick denim of his jeans in an attempt to mask his breathing, perhaps he wouldn't be found, perhaps whoever it was outside of his door would think that the room was deserted and would just leave. These were childish hopes and yet, he _was_ only a child – he could not do anything but hope that somehow he would make it out of this surreal and terrible night to find that his mind had been playing cruel tricks on him. He would wake up soon, get dressed, eat the pancakes which would be sitting on the table waiting for him and then he would take the bus to school the same way he did every morning, he would walk up to room 44b sit in his seat next Samantha Pearson as he always did during Geography, he would take the test, he would ace it – hey he'd even let her copy it if it meant he had a chance with her, he just needed to wake up...

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><p>The rescuer opened the door, alarmed by the fact that the music had stopped and the room had gone quiet again. Perhaps it was just a cruel taunt, a way for evil to best good once again but there had definitely been some activity here.<p>

On the desk lay an open exercise book, filled with the neat cursive of the boy to whom it belonged, the pen he had evidently been using had the top off. It had rolled onto the floor and was laid between the legs of the chair which was thrown onto its back on the floor. All the signs pointed to a hasty abandonment and as the rescuer bent down and righted the objects, putting the top back on the pen and standing the chair back into its correct position, it became apparent that he had fled. The bottom drawer of his desk was thrown open and from the contents which remained - a few odd objects and more importantly large batteries – it seemed logical to assume that he had grabbed a torch from the drawer. This meant that there was good chance he had made it away, to some semblance of safety. Again this thought filled the rescuer with hope, the only emotion that dared to be present. Any other thoughts did not bear consideration at this point.

In the stillness, it did not seem possible that he was still here, despite the fact that his stereo system glowed red and the track number was held steady at twenty. It seemed that the rescuer was too late; all that could be done was to hope that he could fend for himself, that he could get away from this place safely.

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><p>He watched the figure through the gap in the closet door. It was dangerous, the person had only to turn around and he would be discovered but something about the way the lone intruder had stopped and taken the time to right his desk chair and stationery made him think that maybe, this person did not pose a threat to his safety.<p>

His breath was coming out in tense wisps as he watched the figure beginning to retreat across the room towards the door. He was pleased but in his desperation, he did not want to be alone. It was this desperation which, without forethought, had him reaching out his fingers and pushing ever so slightly against the door of the closet.

The tiniest creak of a hinge and the subsequent minute rustle of what sounded like paper caused the rescuer to spin around quickly, looking towards the slim door at the foot of the room.

Of course. The one place that a boy would run to if he felt under threat. There wouldn't have been time for him to go anywhere else, he would have wanted the safest place and even to the seasoned rescuer, the closet offered that quick escape and sense of comfort a boy would be looking for.

The rescuer made it quickly across the room, hoping against hope that once that door was opened, the right person would be hidden there. There wasn't time to consider any other options...

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><p>He saw rather than heard the big brass handle of his closet door being opened and his heart pounded against his chest; in fact it felt like any minute it would burst through his skin, right out of his chest. He had been stupid to think that he was safe here, he had been careless to move until the intruder was out of the room and yet, as the door inched open he realised he would rather face up to his fate than have to hide in here forever...<p>

He scooted back, his arms flailing around behind him as he desperately made his final attempt to get as far away from danger as possible but soon, as was inevitable, his back hit the plasterboard wall at the back of his closet and he realised that his destiny was set.

In that final moment before the door was fully opened, he did the only thing he had the consciousness to do. He prayed. For help, for his life and for a saviour...

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><p>He clenched his eyes shut, waiting for the click of a gun's safety catch as it was released, he sat still so as not to inch his face closer to the cool, metallic barrel which was undoubtedly pointed at his face. His hands clamped down over his ears once more in a desperate attempt to stop himself from hearing the sound of a bullet as it travelled through the air and shattered his skull...<p>

But none of those things came. There was only silence.

After what felt like hours he dared to open his eyes, finding himself to be staring up at the dark, concealed figure of the intruder. The person did not look as he imagined they would. The figure was shrouded in the darkness of the room and wore something which seemed to obscure their face, but they were not hulking and huge as he had thought the intruder would be and in fact he thought he might have stood a chance of overpowering the intruder if he wasn't curled into a ball and frozen by fear.

The figure was tall and their stance was relaxed, he could see no gun or indeed any other form of weapon. Just a black outfit and gloves and silence... A silence during which they could both be heard to have heavy, uncontrollable breathing...

There was something oddly familiar and yet so dangerously unknowable about the way the figure filled the doorway to his little closet and he wondered what that meant. He also wondered why he was still alive...

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><p>The rescuer stood there looking down at the boy for a moment, although in truth there was no need to make certain of his identity. His long curtain of pure white hair and icy blue eyes were enough to confirm his identity. It looked like hope had not been in vain; it looked like just this once good had won. Although the sad truth of the lives that had been lost remained and the disappointment that more could have been done to save them hung in the air, there was just that tiny sliver of hope.<p>

After several tense seconds the rescuer reached up to the black net which had been obscuring any recognition of their face, it was not necessary at this point and his ability to recognise the face which stared at his crucial...

The net floated to the floor and her long brunette hair tumbled around her shoulders in loose waves. She took a deep, steadying breath as the air filled her mouth and nostrils unobstructed for the first time in hours.

As she looked back down at him, she noticed the faintest twinge of recognition in his eyes.

"Hello Declan."

She spoke warmly and softly and just like a whisper on the wind, her voice inspired some of the deepest, darkest memories he possessed - memories long hidden and denied as he realised who it was...

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><p><strong>Well there it is, the prologue to this new venture. I hope you enjoyed it. If you want to read more please let me know. I'm sorry for leaving it on a bit of a cliff hanger but they are my speciality and I wouldn't want to reveal all my secrets now would I? I'll tell you something, it was awfully difficult not to use she or her until the last minute to describe the 'rescuer' - I don't think I gave it away until the end - of course you all know by now who it is right?<strong>

**I look forward to hearing your thoughts**

**Hopefully I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me.**

**I'll keep working on this and more should be posted very soon, so watch this space. **

**Thanks for reading. **

**Love**

_**X~Michelle~X **_


	2. For the Sins of his Father

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you so much for your lovely reviews, they mean so much to me :) **

**Here's the next part of this I hope you enjoy it and feel free to let me know what you think. **

**My Author's note remains the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

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><p>~"<em>One who is injured ought not to <em>_return__ the injury, for on no account can it be right to do an injustice; and it is not right to __return__ an injury, or to do evil to any man, however much we have suffered from him.__"~ Socrates. _

For the longest time those two words reverberated around the room. They sent shockwaves through both of the people in the room. In the ten years since she had last seen him, she hadn't ever imagined that they would meet this way and in truth she had never imagined that they would meet again at all. She had done what was necessary and then she had accepted that she would never know where he had been placed. It was the only way that she could ensure his safety. It was the only way to protect him from Doyle. That was why when he had asked her where his son was when she had been stabbed, she had been able to give him an honest answer, perhaps the first one she had ever given him, in telling him that she didn't know.

Having made it off the operating table and safely to Paris, she had known it wouldn't be long before Doyle started to search for his son, given that when he had escaped the warehouse he had known that Declan still lived. After a short convalescence, admittedly probably too short, she had known that whatever the risk the only way she could attempt to help Declan, to stop him from having to live the warrior-like lifestyle of his father, was to return to the United States. It was a risk, after all, the reason why she had fled to Europe had been to protect her team and going back to America under the radar was putting them in direct danger. But she had always possessed a maternal instinct and meeting Declan on the assignment with Doyle had meant that she had unwillingly formed a bond with the child which meant that she could not allow Ian to find him whilst she sat idly by and did nothing.

The team would be Ok. In theory she had planned to come here, get Declan out and then take him to safety. But it hadn't been that simple. It had taken over a year to get any leads on Doyle himself, having been out of action in Paris and then later in other European countries for the first six months after her escape, she had unwittingly given him a head start of course, but like the cockroach he was he had returned to somewhere warm and safe – _The Black Shamrock._ She had been at the same disadvantage as Doyle, having no clue as to where to start in the search for the lost boy. This had been even more of a problem for her than it had been for him because although Doyle was on the 'Most Wanted' list as a result of her _death, _he was incredibly clever with regard to slipping through the system unnoticed and since most of the criminal underworld were now scared of him, he could easily find a team to replace those who had been killed on that night two years, six months and seventeen days ago in the warehouse in Boston.

She had been surprised as she set up more sensible forms of surveillance than she had when she had tried to take him down the first time, to find that many of the criminal 'lords' now ruling Boston were from respectable positions. Of course she shouldn't have been, _The Black Shamrock _was infamous as a place for the worst of the worst to crawl to and if being in her job had taught her anything it was that most often it was the person you trusted above all others who could hurt you the most – Doctors, lawyers, politicians, policeman - she had seen them all fraternising with Doyle and although she wanted nothing more than to put a bullet in every single one of their heads for the betrayal to the justice system of their country, she knew that so long as Doyle was keeping them alive, they were useful to him which meant that however inadvertently, they were useful to her too.

It had been difficult staying in the shadows and refraining from killing Doyle. It would have been so easy, so many times she had watched him as he moved about from motel to motel and guest house to guest house and she had seen the one thing she thought she would never see. Late at night when he returned to the crappy low grade motels he frequented without his original convoy or guards, she would see his fear. Of being caught, of being killed and of being watched. Doyle had sensed her eyes so many times, but she was trained, this time she was prepared for him and he never saw her once – he just felt the ghost of her presence around him always.

Despite the fear he instilled in the criminal world after killing her, he had lost respect in the ranks of organised crime and so people were less willing to help him, but he still had power enough to manipulate the crooked professionals around him until they did his bidding. That was why after locating Doyle it hadn't taken long to locate Declan, as she had expected.

The only spanner in the works had been that neither of them – Doyle nor her had banked on Declan having been adopted. They had both assumed, perhaps foolishly that he would still be with Louise Jones, the housekeeper who had worked at the villa in Tuscany – neither one of them had expected her to fall victim to heart failure, therefore meaning that in the absence of any other family Declan had been placed into child protective services and had eventually been adopted by a nice couple who had never been able to have children and who relished bringing seven year old Declan home to their townhouse in Atlanta – Marnie and Robert Simmons.

She had watched the house for weeks as had Doyle and on several occasions she had seen opportunities to grab Declan, but again her humanity posed a problem - she could not rip him away from his new family, it had just seemed so cruel – they loved him and he loved them, that much was clear. He was settled and happy and bore no trace of the turbulent past he had been subjected to by Doyle. So she had watched and she had waited and she had hoped that she was going to get here in time, at the precise moment that he would need her but she had failed.

Doyle had organised a strike team to come here in the middle of the night and take out Marnie and Robert and although she had yet to assess the damage she knew that they were dead. There was something about the heaviness of the air and the loud, throbbing silence which indicated that deaths had occurred. Plus there was the warm, sticky scent of blood drifting up the stairs and filling her nostrils. She only wished she hadn't been so out of range, it wouldn't have mattered to her if her cover had been blown, if she could have saved Declan's new family her own safety was worth the sacrifice. But she hadn't and now the only one left was the boy himself, looking up at her with petrified eyes as he tried to remember whether she was friend or foe.

The question burning in her mind right now was where was Doyle? She had gotten here just as the strike team had been leaving and hidden in the shadows she had heard them boasting about Marnie's tortured screams and she had felt sick at the thought that somewhere in that huge house Declan had been made to bear witness to his mother's agony. She had also heard them say that they had not gained a visual of the boy himself and she knew that Doyle would be furious at this revelation. He too had spent weeks planning his attack, although unlike her he wished to harm the adoptive parents who he thought had no right to his son before coming to claim him, introducing him to the legacy of his true father. She wondered how long she had to convince Declan to come with her before he showed up, for it was bound to happen... That was what she feared the most, he had almost killed her once and although she had lived to tell the tale she knew that it was the skill of the surgeons who had worked on her that she had to thank for that, this time alone here in Atlanta she would not be so lucky, this she knew – if Doyle saw her, he would make damn sure she didn't escape him a third time in her life. She had to get him out now. God she wished she had the back up of her team, she had even considered calling in an anonymous tip in the hope that they would follow her out here but that had been too dangerous – now that she was here she understood that risking their lives was just not an option. Instead she had sent them a photograph of the house with the initials D.J attached in the hope that it might inspire them to follow the lead. She had done it from a secure IP so Garcia would not be able to trace it and she had waited but for the first time ever, her team had not come and she wondered if they had even found any information on Doyle, if they knew about Declan and if they were even looking for the man who had killed her. It seemed unlikely that they would let her murder go unavenged but here she was alone and facing a man whom she knew she had almost nothing to fear from now that death was a certainty but who also terrified her more than words could say...

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><p>She crouched down in front of the quivering boy, watching him as he studied her face and she felt the same rush of love for him now as she had then when he had been an innocent five year old who wanted to play hide and seek. He had not changed much, his features were still cherubic and his hair untainted by colorant as was popular with so many teens now, he was the image of his infant self and that warmed her heart. He was as pure as they day she had met him and she took comfort from the knowledge that in some small way, her attempt to free him from his father had succeeded.<p>

"You remember me don't you Declan?" She asked, keeping her voice light and friendly in an attempt to show him that she came in peace. Who knew what scars their last encounter had left on him, of course she had made it a game and had done it for the right reasons but that didn't mean it wasn't terrible.

"How... how do you know my name?" He whispered and she couldn't help the smile which graced her mouth as she heard that he had not lost his mildly Irish accent despite being ripped away from that influence in his early youth. There was something so innocent about him that made her fall in love with him all over again as she had so easily done in Tuscany.

"I'm sorry, I forgot you don't go by Declan anymore do you? It's Matthew now right?" She asked softly, she had expected this denial.

Marnie and Robert probably knew about his history and had wanted to give him a fresh start away from that life and all the people in it. As one of those people she admired the effort, she really did – it mirrored what she had tried to do for him although his parents had gone about it in a much more sensitive way, befitting the treatment of a child in this situation, whereas her only thought had been to make his five year old self complicit in the faking of his death... She had never quite forgiven herself for that but she took solace from the knowledge that he was alive now...

"I think maybe you have the wrong person, there isn't any Declan living here." He told her calmly, still not moving away from her, her presence was somehow comforting.

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><p>"Listen Ok, listen to me – you have nothing to be afraid of, I won't hurt you. I'm a friend, I'm..." She started but he cut across her.<p>

"Lauren." He breathed, reaching out his shaking fingers and touching her cheek as the memory of his young self crawling on the floor laughing as she chased him filled his head.

"Hey you." She smiled as if she was sharing the same memory.

"Why did you have to go away?" He asked and for a moment he was five years old again and she was helping him to remove the binding and tape she had put in place for the sake of those photos, he was five years old and asking why he couldn't go with her to where she was going...

"Declan..." She started, using his real name, it was important – he had to understand the real danger his was in, he had to remember who he was, if only for tonight.

"There are things that you don't understand about the first time we met and I don't have time to explain everything right now, but I promise you I will. What you need to know is that Lauren isn't my real name, I had to use it when I was around you and... your father to keep me safe. My real name is Emily. Emily Prentiss." She told him, shocked by the coarseness of her given name in her own voice after so much time had passed without her hearing it, or even thinking it.

"Emily Prentiss? But... he... my father killed you." He replied in confusion.

"How... how do you know that?" Emily asked stumbling over the words, backing out of the closet and hoping that he would follow.

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><p>He did and crossed to the desk switching on the light and reaching for the <em>Iphone <em>on his desk and touching the screen.

"Google alert... see." He replied handing her the phone so she could see what he was talking about.

As she looked down at the phone she saw a list of every article ever written about Doyle, from the early suspicions about his connection to _Valhalla_ through to his arrest, there were articles about the Central Intelligence and Interpol involvement in his case and most recently there were articles about his responsibility for her death.

She tapped the hyperlink and quickly read through the article entitled '_Dangerous IRA operative responsible for death of Federal Agent'. _She hadn't read anything about her death since she had leftand reading the quotations from 'Supervisory Special Agent in Charge Aaron Hotchner' about how much the team missed her and the relentless vigour with which they would work to bring her murderer to justice made her believe that whatever she may have thought, she had been loved once and still was by her team. She wiped a quick tear away and sucked it up as she turned back to him.

"Why do you look at these?" She asked, not angrily, but she was surprised that he would.

"Honestly? So I don't ever become like him, so I don't ever forget what evil looks like." Declan replied and she had to smile. She was starting to wonder if this boy really needed her at all, he seemed to be doing a pretty good job by himself, but still there were things that he didn't know and things that he could not do without her aid – like escaping this place unscathed for example.

"You're so brave Declan, you know that right?" She asked touching her hand to his cheek affectionately.

He nodded uncertainly and licked his lips as he prepared to voice the question he was dying to ask her. The only thing was, he was not sure that he wanted to know the answer. "Uh... He... killed my parents didn't he?" He whispered and again she saw his five year old self.

She sucked in a breath as she stared at his still terrified eyes. She could see in that moment that he knew the truth, but like any child he was simply trying to believe that it hadn't happened.

"Declan... we both know that they're gone and yes, your father was responsible but he wasn't here... he hasn't come yet." Emily replied, knowing that she had to treat him with the maturity that he exhibited.

"What do you mean _yet_? Is he going to come after me?" He asked, his voice shaking with worry.

"He's been searching for you for two years like me. It isn't a coincidence that I'm here on the night that this happened, I've been following him and he led me to you. I'm just sorry I didn't get here sooner, I had no idea he was planning to strike tonight, I tried so many times to get you and your family away safely but I couldn't compromise you, I couldn't risk him seeing me because if he had I couldn't have protected you." She told him, her tone genuinely apologetic as she crouched onto her knees and held his shoulders.

"It's Ok, it wasn't your fault – you didn't do this, you tried to help." He replied, his voice full of forgiveness as he placed his arms around her and gave her a squeeze.

Emily was frozen for a moment, so unused to physical contact was she that his unexpected gesture had taken her by surprise but after a while, she let her own arms wrap around his back and she rubbed her hand against it comfortingly the way she had seen J.J comfort little Henry... She sucked up fresh tears as she thought of her friend and wondered again if she was close, if the blonde agent had worked out that there was only one person in the world who could have figured out Declan's location. She wondered if they were once again _waving flashlights and calling her name. _She wondered if it would ever be safe to come out from the dark places she had been to, if she could ever come home...

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><p>"Ok... listen to me, we have to get out of here, I have to get you somewhere safe. We're going to get out of this state and then we'll catch a flight to Europe. Ever been to Rome Declan?" She asked, suddenly overwhelmed by a need to revisit the place where her childhood had gone so badly wrong... she hoped that going back there could rectify some of her mistakes.<p>

"No never... Are we going to be safe? Are you going to stay with me?" He asked nervously.

"Of course, I'm not going anywhere I promise. Now I have to go check out... downstairs Ok, so I want you to pack up a rucksack and grab a jacket alright?" She asked trying to reassure him.

He clutched her hand afraid to let go, afraid of what she might find but most all afraid that once she had gone she would never come back. He couldn't do this alone after all, he was one boy and he was under no pretences that his father would show him mercy. He clung to her but eventually she pried their fingers apart.

"Declan I want you to close the door behind me and put your chair under the handle, right up tight. Don't open it for anyone unless I call to you Ok? That's very important you mustn't open that door to anyone, do you understand?" She asked, desperate to keep him safe in her absence.

"I understand." He breathed as she retreated towards the door.

She was through the door and turning back towards him when he spoke again, the frightened child who needed her to protect him. "Come back to me." He begged and it almost broke her heart.

"I will I promise. Now shut the door." She told him and then she was gone.

* * *

><p>She moved along the dark hallway quickly and made her way down the stairs. She kept her steps light – just in case - but something told her they were alone. Doyle had not come yet and she had to wonder why. Surely he knew that Declan was in a vulnerable position? If nothing else she expected his paternal instinct to kick in. He was his father and the boy was all alone in the world, it was the perfect opportunity to roll out the sob story and win Declan over and yet he had not come...<p>

She reached the bottom of the stairs and without even having to look, the smell of drying blood alerted her to the fact that the crime scene was in the family room. She steeled herself, mildly afraid of what she would find – she knew the calibre of Doyle's crimes, but she knew she must push on – for Declan's sake.

She drew her weapon quietly, clicking off the safety and raising it in front of her. She knew she couldn't be too careful. She inched her way towards the family room and used the toe of her boot to open the door. For the thousandth time tonight she wished for her team. She wished for Morgan in front of her, breaking down the door and instinctively taking the brunt of whatever horror would be discovered before she came in – protecting her in that way, she wished for Reid, somewhere in the background spouting statistics about the type of crime that had been committed and Garcia hanging on the earpiece with bated breath, terrified for the lives of her family and bravely staying with them. She wished she could hear the footsteps of Rossi and JJ on the upstairs landing as they rushed to find Declan and bring him to safety but most of all she wished right now that she could feel the heat of Hotch's breath on the back of her neck or the slightest brush of his hand on her hip as, in his unspoken way, he told her that he had her back...

But she was alone and she knew it.

She was afraid and she could only wish for the braveness her team seemed to instil in her as she shut the door behind her and her eyes fell onto the lifeless bodies of Declan's parents.

* * *

><p>A tear slipped down her cheek and fell from her chin as she realised that once again she had been bested by Doyle. He had chosen his team for this strike precisely and that reflected in the type of kill that had been executed. She tiptoed into the room as she looked around checking for signs of any further intruders and realising that the room was empty before she crossed to the two figures laying in the centre of the room...<p>

From the short distance she was currently standing at, they could almost be sleeping. Both of them had bare feet and she knew that much as she had in the weeks before Doyle had taken her to that warehouse, if she looked closely she would find a pin prick between each of their big toes and secondary metatarsal where they had been poisoned.

As she approached them, the profiler in her suddenly awoke and she noticed the positioning of the bodies. Marnie Simmons was face down, her head turned towards the door as if in death she was seeking out her son. Her hand was stretched back her palm upturned, her fingers barely brushing those of her husband. They had not been posed this way, this had simply been a last mark of their love for each other and that saddened Emily's heart. She took a few steps closer to Robert and knelt beside him, noting that he was the object of Doyle's true rage – and why wouldn't he be? He was the man who for all intents and purposes had replaced Ian in Declan's life and he obviously resented that. This was the reason for the thick smell of blood which filled the air – whereas Marnie could have fallen asleep, Robert who had obviously also been poisoned had been mutilated post mortem.

He was barely recognisable despite the fact that Emily now knew the man well enough after watching him for so long, to pick him out of a crowd she was struggling to see any resemblance. His glasses lay smashed, off to his right, they looked like they had been stamped on and this was corroborated by the large muddy boot print in the plush pile of the cream carpet beneath the broken spectacles. His face which had been frozen into a contorted scream of pain by the poison and the onset of rigour mortis, was covered in an innumerable amount of slices which criss-crossed in an irregular pattern. The same could be said for his abdomen, which through the torn- open white shirt he wore, had been treated in the same way.

She had known Doyle to do some awful things in the time she had been with him but she had never imagined that he could be this callous and cruel with regard to people his son cared about, it was only further confirmation that even Declan would not be safe from his father's wrath.

* * *

><p>Still on her knees she leant closer to the dead man, her hands shaking as her glove clad fingers fumbled with the remaining buttons on his shirt, drawing the material together and buttoning the shirt in order to offer the man at least some dignity in his death. She knew she shouldn't mess with the crime scene, it would make the job of whoever showed up harder, but she felt responsible for this and she had to do something for them.<p>

She stood then, casting her eyes around the room and taking in the smashed family photos which depicted the two adults in an Orchestra or with their son on a leisurely day out. Whoever had been here had been so cruel as to scrub out Marnie's face and had evidently used the same blood stained knife that had been used on Robert to draw crosses over every single picture of him. It made her feel sick to think that Doyle would want to take away Declan's happiness with these people and their quiet life in favour of recruiting him into the IRA. The man had a warped sense of morality... in fact, this only proved that however human and moral he might still have been when she had known him, nothing motivated Ian Doyle more than evil...

She walked to both of the couches in the room, grabbing the matching throws which were placed on them and bringing them back over to Marnie and Robert. She bent down a little placing the blankets over each of their bodies, careful not to disturb their positioning as she did so. She needed to believe as she suspected Declan would, that were simply sleeping beneath them. It was the only way she could help their son.

"I'm sorry." She whispered simply, beginning to leave the room.

* * *

><p>As she reached the door she heard a creak above her and she knew it was coming from Declan's room, this was not odd because he was probably still packing but it was the sound of the heavy thud of a pair of boots, followed by the gasp of the boy which told her that her efforts to get Declan out before <em>he<em> came had failed. She cursed her compassionate heart for being responsible for the delay, but as she raced up the stairs, her gun drawn, she realised it was the one thing that separated her from Doyle.

She reached the door and stood listening in the silence for only a moment. She could hear his rough voice making demands and she could hear the frightened replies of Declan as father and son met again at last.

* * *

><p>"Who is it? Who's here?" Doyle demanded.<p>

"A friend, just a friend." Declan replied, hoping that Emily had heard the commotion by now – he didn't want to give her away.

"Who is it?" He demanded again and she heard Declan emit a cry as he refused to answer.

That was the only proof Emily needed that Doyle would not show even his innocent son the mercy he deserved. It was the thing that drove her to break down the door.

* * *

><p>Unlike Morgan, it took her a few attempts to make it happen but eventually she heard the crash of the chair and the split of wood as the door gave in and suddenly she was standing in its place, her gun pointed at Doyle's head before she had even processed what had happened.<p>

Doyle, who had been facing away from her standing over his son, suddenly spun around looking her directly in the eye. His face was colourless and pale in seconds as she stared at the woman he had killed two years ago.

"You?" His voice was no more than a strangled whisper as he licked his lips.

"_Hello love." _She replied sarcastically as she stepped further into the room bringing her in closer range to him. She did not want revenge for herself, but rather she wished to avenge the deaths of all those innocents who been sacrificed in their twisted game.

"But I... I killed you..." He mumbled distractedly, seeming to forget that his son was in the room at all.

"That's the thing about me Ian, I have a nasty habit of escaping you." She told him, her eyes flashing with a confidence she did not feel, she knew it was dangerous to taunt him like this.

"Maybe you won't be so lucky this time." He commented, apparently recovering.

She licked her lips as she thought about this situation. She had been puzzled by how he had gotten in here but it appeared he had used a sky light in this room that she had not been aware of. Her eyes flicked to Declan as she disengaged the safety on her gun. She didn't want to kill his father in front of him but she would do what she had to in order to protect him.

"I will shoot you Ian, this time _you _don't get to leave." She told him firmly and calmly, preparing to take the shot.

"Is that so? I think... no I _know_ this will change your mind." He replied, taking a step closer to Declan and raising something which glinted in the darkness.

A knife.

'_A higher percentage of women will comply if they see a knife than they will if they see a gun'._ She remembered saying that on a case some years ago and now she knew it was true. He had the knife positioned at Declan's throat and the boy was crying silent, shaking tears. She knew that she was going to drop the gun and he was going to leave with Declan...

"Don't worry my love, we're going to leave now and this woman will never hurt us again." He whispered into his son's ear and Declan started sobbing then.

"Please... Ian... Please don't do this, this is what you wanted right? To find Declan and to have him back in your life – don't do this to him, don't make him fear his father." Emily begged still not lowering the gun.

"You're right, I've dreamt of the moment when Declan and I would be together again, but I get here and find that he calls some other man father and has been poisoned against me. It's ironic really that the _imposter father _has been poisoned wouldn't you say?" Ian asked and they both heard Declan's strangled sob at the news.

"Don't do this Ian, don't make him complicit in your crimes, he's an innocent boy and you have the opportunity to let him be free of the torment you've been through... I can help you, I can get you out." She pleaded again, hoping that he would have mercy.

"You and your 'resources' huh? You'll get us out?" Doyle actually seemed to be considering the fact that she was telling him the truth.

"I'll do what I can but you have to promise me that he'll be safe." She told him as sincerely as she could, trying to distract him long enough to think of a way to get Declan away from him. She realised that she did not have a clear enough shot at Doyle without compromising the boy at this moment.

* * *

><p>Ian lowered the knife a little, becoming uncomfortable with threatening his son as he contemplated her offer. He had fallen for her charms once and he would be damned if he would do so again, but she was here alone and with only a nine millimetre for protection – she did not want to kill him, she had come here for Declan, after all these years he was still their common ground.<p>

"Look I'm not asking you to take me with you – _I have no illusions_, I'm not asking for anything – I'll let you go now without opposition and you can take him as long as you do two things for me. One, you have to promise that you'll never do anything to put him in harm's way or to make him like you and two, you let me say goodbye to him." Emily told him, lowering her weapon and holstering it, dangerously aware that the safety was still disengaged – it was all put of her plan.

"This boy is the only thing I have left in the world, he's the only thing I have left which reminds me of _her _my beautiful wife... of course I'm not going to harm him, but he was born to be a warrior like his father. I won't make any promises on that count but you can say goodbye." He replied and she was astounded by the fact that he was actually buying this...

Doyle had dropped the knife completely by now and was pushing the boy towards her. He stumbled a little but eventually found his way into her embrace. She knelt before him, holding him close.

"What do we do?" She heard him whisper directly into her ear and she smiled, at least he was wise to her plan, that was the only thing that mattered.

"Run... Run now." She whispered before releasing him and watching as he scrambled to the door.

Ian, who had been watching their exchange closely did not let him get far before he lunged across the room towards the boy, towards the only one he could say he had ever truly loved in this world...

* * *

><p>In the struggle the three of them had ended up on the floor and Declan was kicking free of the iron grip his father had suddenly got around his ankle. As the boy scrambled towards the tight space behind his door, Doyle turned his attention the woman who was struggling beneath his weight. She was the one who needed his attention now, the boy he would deal with later...<p>

"Now you die Emily Prentiss, for real and at my hand. You do not fool Ian Doyle twice and live to tell the tale." He told her cruelly as his hands went around her neck.

* * *

><p>In her delirium, Emily fumbled in the space between them and her hand closed around her gun. She was losing focus as he increased the pressure and she wondered how long she would have before oxygen depletion caused her to lose consciousness. As she sought Declan out in the place where he cowered terrified beyond belief of the man who was his father, she found she had strength enough for this one final act of survival.<p>

She pulled her weapon out, positioned it against him and fired. The sound of the bullet releasing from the barrel and travelling into his abdominal wall echoed around the room and she heard Declan's scream, that was her only regret...

This was it, the moment she had waited ten years for, she was finally going to finish Doyle. His hands released momentarily from her neck as the shock of what she had done hit him.

"Bitch..." The word escaped him in a rush of air but he did not fall, or attempt to move away from her. As she stared up at him... this fearsome man who had been defeated by the 'great leveller', she realised that he was not going to give up his fight for life easily. Her shot had been blind and ill judged and she knew that whilst it would kill him, it could take a while and she was still pinned to the ground...

* * *

><p>He seemed to come to the realisation that life still flowed through his veins at about the same time as she did and his hands immediately wrapped around her neck again. He squeezed as hard as his ever-weakening body would allow him, desperate not to allow her to survive when he could not.<p>

"You're... Coming... With me..." He told her through increasingly laboured breaths.

"Sorry Ian... I... can't... follow you... to where... you're... going." She replied, fighting for breath as his face swam before her eyes.

She scratched at his hands with her short nails and bent her leg attempting to put some distance between them, but even in his weakened state he was stronger than her.

A tear slid down her face as she prepared to die for a second and very realistic time at the hands of this monster...

* * *

><p>Declan didn't know what to do as he watched the two adults fighting each other, neither one relenting as they both tried to succeed in killing the other. He had tried to turn away and he had tried covering his ears in an attempt to block out the expletives his father uttered and the sounds of her heavy breathing but on this night, he had left childhood behind, that much he knew. Such comforts and pretences as a decade old game of hide and seek wherein he hid behind his hands and thought that if he couldn't see her then she couldn't see him, but now as he sat here cowering by his door, the rose tinted glasses of youth had fallen away and he realised that he could see her and that she needed his help. He simply couldn't let her die now, she was all he had left in world otherwise filled with darkness...<p>

He got to his feet unsteadily, terrified that his father would see him and try to stop him. He moved slowly around the edge of the room and noticed that his father did not even seem to remember that he was present in the room, so intent was he on killing Emily Prentiss.

He reached his desk and scrambled around the surface, looking for something, anything to help him. As his sweaty fingers closed around the only object that seemed logical, he swallowed his fear as he realised what he must do...

* * *

><p>Emily's head was surprisingly clear, she felt no fear and very little pain, she thought of nothing but the sweet release which death would offer her. As she looked up with unseeing eyes at her murderer she couldn't seem to remember why she had even bothered to fight him, to fight this. Death was the only thing in the universe which welcomed everyone no matter what and she no longer possessed the urge to fight what was inevitable. She sighed with the last of the breath in her lungs as a calm acceptance of this universal truth settled over her. She was prepared to die...<p>

Until...

She suddenly became aware of something, someone in the peripheral field of her vision and coherent thought came flooding back to her with astounding clarity. She _did_ have a reason for fighting, there_ was_ someone to fight for...

"Declan..." She forced the word out as she saw him standing over them, his arm raised above his head and an object in his hand.

* * *

><p>"Noooooooo!" The word was an anguished scream as she realised what he was about to do.<p>

"Don't... do it... Don't...be... like... him... Declan..." She begged tears rolling down her cheeks as she watched his arm travel through the air and the object make that first bone chipping contact with Doyle's head.

"Noooooooo!" She sobbed as he raised it again, bringing it crashing down against Doyle's head repeatedly and causing hot, sticky blood to spatter across her face.

* * *

><p>Doyle had been dying since the moment she had shot him, but he had expected to die after killing her, he had not expected Declan to do this and so as he let out a final groan of pain and slumped forward, his face falling directly on to Emily's, his last Earthly action was to cry a single tear for the boy who had become him...<p>

Emily watched in horror as air began to burn its way back to her starved lungs and she witnessed the life drain from Doyle's eyes until he no longer drew in laboured breaths or applied pressure to her windpipe. He was dead...

In that single action, Declan Doyle, for that was his true name, had atoned for the sins of his father...

* * *

><p>Emily lay still for a moment since as much as having Doyle's dead body plastered against hers repulsed her, she simply could not find the strength to move. She had no idea how to deal with the repercussions of what had happened. Her only relief was that she was alive and her nemesis was dead. As she contemplated the reasons for this however, all thoughts of victory drained away and in their place came thoughts for the tortured soul of his son...<p>

After several minutes had passed and she had breathed in enough air to fortify her aching body, she began to shift beneath the still and silent form of Ian Doyle. The more she pushed against him, the more her limbs seemed to rediscover the ability to move and she was able to use her arms and legs to roll him off of her.

She continued to lay on her back as she stared up at Declan who clutched the bloodied object in his hands whilst he sobbed behind the limp curtain of his hair. Her heart went out to the poor child who should have never have been burdened with this task as she sat up slowly so as not to alarm him.

* * *

><p>She stood shakily after a moment and moved in close to him but he hardly seemed to notice her next to him as her hand reached out and took the object from him. As it fell to the floor, the large rectangular paperweight bore witness to its grisly employment with its right hand corner covered in warm, red blood. She would deal with that later, for now there were more important things.<p>

She stepped closer to him and after a while his tortured eyes met hers as her hands, still gloved, closed around his back and drew him into her. His arms wrapped around her waist and he sobbed uncontrollably. She let him, it was better to cry this out now than have it follow him forever. That was what she was telling herself as she cried her own silent tears...

* * *

><p>He drew back after the longest time and she brushed his hair away from his face and tried to offer him a reassuring smile.<p>

"What did I do?" He asked, his voice no longer tainted by tears but still just a whisper.

"The right thing." She answered him without having to think about it – this_ was_ the right thing, it just should never have had to be him who did it.

"I...I..." He seemed at a loss for words.

"You saved me Declan... Thank you." She told him, leaning down and pressing a tender kiss to his forehead.

"He is...isn't he?" The boy's shaky voice asked.

"Yes."

"We're safe?" He asked in mild disbelief as he watched her bend down and pick up the paper weight and make her way towards the door.

"Where are you going?" He asked in a panic, she wasn't leaving... surely?

"The bathroom, come with me – quickly." She told him and he rushed to follow her.

* * *

><p>She worked quickly, washing the paperweight clean with soap and water and trying to remove all traces of blood. She knew that wasn't exactly possible, in her job she knew that, but if it looked clean and she put it back in the right place hopefully no suspicions would be aroused until they were too far gone to be found...<p>

She looked up, watching him as he watched her in the mirror. She offered him a small smile as she rinsed the blood from her face and then wrung out a clean wash cloth, turning towards him.

He shut his eyes as he felt the cool comfort of the cloth as she wiped away the sticky tracks of his tears and soothed his raging temperature and sweaty forehead. It was so like the way his mother had done it that for a moment, just one Heavenly moment it felt like she was not gone at all.

She put the two wash cloths she had used into the laundry basket, knowing that no one would be doing said laundry, but feeling like she should go through the motions of doing it for him. She picked up the hairbrush which lay on the edge of the basin and stroked it through his long mane of hair, tidying him up again in a maternal fashion before she moved towards the door. She knew he was afraid, but she hoped that these small comforts she could offer him made him less so as he practically tripped over her heels in an attempt to stay close.

* * *

><p>She went back into the bedroom, closely followed by Declan and placed the paperweight back onto the desk, over the pile of papers in had been holding before and she turned to him, watching as he stared down at Ian's body.<p>

"Don't look at him Ok, look at me...right at me... do you have everything you need? Some clothes? A jacket? Your passport?" She asked coming up behind him and spinning him to face her.

"Mm Hmm, in here." He told her, picking up the rucksack and putting it onto his back.

"Good." She replied, crossing to the closet and fumbling through its contents until she found what she was looking for. She stepped back out and handed the woollen hat to him, conscious that it was summer but unable to think of another way to hide his identity.

"Put this on." She told him, gathering his long blonde hair and helping him to pile it beneath the hat.

She noticed then how his teeth chattered despite the warm night and she ran her arms up and down his in an attempt to warm him. "It's going to be Ok. I promise." She told him before bending down in front of the closet and picking up the black net she had previously discarded. Going to the window, she used the slight reflection in it to twist her hair beneath the net and pull it down over her face – she couldn't risk being seen. As she checked its position she couldn't help glancing down at the street below.

* * *

><p>A chilly fear made her blood run like ice in her veins as she noticed the gathering of neighbours outside the house and two squad cars without their sirens. Apparently, her shot had been called in. As she backed away she caught a glimpse of something which both terrified and warmed her heart. A convoy of three black Yukons. So... the Calvary had come...<p>

She did not stand there long enough to witness the moment when Aaron Hotchner and his team got out. Instead she startled when she felt Declan touch her arm.

"What happens now?" He asked almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Now... We run." She told him making her way to the door and beckoning for him to follow.

* * *

><p>She grabbed his hand as they made it out on to the upstairs landing and she tried to think of the best way to get them out of here unseen. He clutched her desperately as she ran past the skylight through which she had come and they hurtled towards the master bedroom , a room in which she was sure she had seen a concealed staircase to the next level of the house during surveillance...<p>

"Declan." She spoke his name so as to get his attention.

"Yes?" He whispered as they made their way down the first few steps.

"Promise me one thing..." She swallowed hard as she listened for the sounds of the people she loved coming through the door. None came, there must have been a jurisdiction issue... thankfully... It gave her time to get away.

"Anything." He agreed.

"Whatever happens next, don't ever let go of my hand." She told him, taking as much strength from their connection as she hoped he felt from her.

"I promise." He replied, giving her hand a squeeze as if to prove a point and then there were no words as they clambered down the rest of the staircase towards the next level of the house...

* * *

><p><strong>So there it is, I hope you enjoyed it and will let me know what you thought of it. I hope I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me. <strong>

**More will be posted soon. **

**Thanks for reading. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X **_


	3. Time to Come Home

**Hello lovely people. **

**Thank you so much for your support on this, I am so glad that you're enjoying it. Here's the next part for you, I hope you enjoy it and that it explains Emily's reactions at the end of the chapter and the running... I know some of you were concerned about that ;-) **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

><p><em>~"There is nothing half so pleasant as coming home again."~ Margaret Elizabeth Sangster. <em>

She clutched his hand tightly as they reached the bottom of the staircase and she realised that by now even Declan himself had probably come to notice that she needed the connection far more than he did. She was the one who was frightened now, he had nothing further to fear -he was safe and she could protect him from the possibility of being discovered as his father's killer but there was no one to protect her from the people who would soon be swarming the house.

In fact as they stopped in the stairwell and paused for a breath, she realised that she was perhaps more afraid of them than she had ever been of Doyle and whilst she knew the reason why, she was not about to admit it out loud. She had to be brave and get them safely away, that was her only objective right now and everything else could wait until later.

* * *

><p>She turned to him, the boy who had shown perhaps more bravery than she had ever known in all her years with the BAU and noticed that he was staring at her with wide, confused eyes.<p>

"Declan, you have to help me, you have to help_ us_ get out of here. You know this house far better than I do so tell me how to get us out unseen. What's on the lowest level?" She asked in a whispered mindful that soon her team would be in here and searching for... the lost boy...

"There's a basement, just a big old basement that no one ever used." He told her his voice matching hers in volume as he watched her open the door at the foot of the staircase and peek out nervously.

In all honesty he could not understand why, if there were people in the house now they were bound to be people on her side, people who could help and yet she was still insisting on running, not that he would complain – he would follow her anywhere so long as he got to stay close to her. She was all he had left in the world and he was not about to let her go. Without her he was just scared and small – a child and with her, he felt less alone and less overcome by his fears. He sensed that she would still offer him love no matter what he had done and whilst he hoped he could offer her the same kind of emotional support, he understood that like him, she deserved a chance at a life which included as many people who loved her as possible.

"Can we get out through there?" She asked worriedly, noticing the familiar shape of her partner as he came through the front door of the house and cast his eyes around looking for signs of danger, much as he had done in her imagination.

He nodded, but held her gaze through the thin black net she wore "Emily?" He asked after a while, careful to keep his voice in a tone not above a whisper.

"Hmmm?" She mumbled watching through the tiny gap in the door as Rossi and JJ ran up the stairs, preparing to clear the upstairs rooms.

"Why are we running? I don't understand... these people can help us right? They're on your side..." Declan replied, voicing the one thing which had been concerning him since they had left his bedroom.

She was frozen for a moment as the question hit her. She guessed she should have expected it, but part of her had wanted him to understand without having to ask. To trust her and know that whatever she was doing, she was doing it for a good reason but he wasn't foolish and neither she knew, was he a typical child. He would want to know and after everything that had happened here tonight she owed him honesty if nothing else.

Still if she could avoid having to discuss her feelings with him, she would try. This thought was reflected in her reply. "Just trust me; this is the right thing to do." She told him as she watched the shadowy figure of Aaron Hotchner enter the family room to make the initial assessments of the primary crime scene...

"But Emily, you don't have to be afraid, you didn't do anything wrong." He told her and she realised that however mature he might seem, he was still a child and he had that thankfully untainted view of right and wrong, black and white which would always guide him on the right path – that was why it was so important that he understood that what he had done here tonight was indeed the right thing. She wouldn't want anything to jeopardise the way he thought about the ideas of good and evil.

"Declan, listen to me Ok, sometimes the 'right thing to do' can hurt people in ways we never imagined, I did do something wrong... I made a decision that I thought was the right thing to do and I hurt those people out there. It wasn't like what you did, you did the right thing and you saved me. I made my team, my friends believe that I was dead and I can't just expect them to forgive me, the world doesn't work like that." She sighed heavily as she considered the possibility of getting past the family room and out of the door without being seen.

"Why'd you do it? If you knew it could hurt them why'd you do it?" His asked and his tone was not accusatory but rather, she could tell that in asking the question he was trying to push her in the right direction, to get her to realise as she had done a few minutes ago for him, that things weren't always as bad as they seemed.

"I did it because I was afraid Declan, of your father and what he might do. Those people out there, they're my family, they're the people I love more than anything in the world and I was afraid that he would take them away, that he would hurt them because of me, so I did this – I disappeared... I protected them in the only way I could, just like I did with you." She told him, the love she felt for him and for the team apparent in her voice.

"But you don't have to protect us anymore and you don't have to be afraid Emily, he's gone and we're all safe now." He assured her with maturity beyond his years.

* * *

><p>"Just because you're father's gone, that doesn't mean that we<em>..I<em> don't still have things to fear... rejection, misunderstanding, hatred and more importantly than all of those things, I'm afraid that if I go out there now, I'll lose you." She murmured, listening to the quiet voice of Spencer Reid and the deep rumble of Derek as they discussed the crime scene and began profiling the killer. It seemed like that by now they had more than a passing awareness that this was somehow tied up with Doyle and she had to wonder why neither JJ nor Rossi, who had taken the upstairs landing had not called attention to Doyle's body yet – but then this was a big house and she knew that the blonde agent's primary goal would be to fulfil the task she had set her – to protect the child, to find Declan...

"Why... why would they separate us?" He whispered terrified at the thought.

"Because they wouldn't understand Declan, they will think that you don't belong with me and they'd probably be right. I'm probably not the best person for you to be with, the way I came to be in your life is just too complicated and you deserve to get the chance to start again. They don't understand our relationship and that wouldn't be their fault it'd be mine, for never telling them the truth." She told him passionately and honestly, always honestly.

"If I don't belong with you then where _do_ I belong?" He asked and the question broke her heart, he was the one who had been hurt most in all of this and it was her fault.

"With people like your parents who never had any knowledge of your past, people who would love you for the boy you are now, the boy you_ can_ be now that _he's _gone." She replied conscious of the volume of her voice.

"But Emily, what about the boy that I was? What about the person I've _become_ after tonight, who's going to love him?" He asked, facing up to the fact that however noble his intentions had been, he had become more like his father than he had ever thought he would be.

"_I_ do. _I_ love you but listen to me Ok – you are not him, you never would be because you acted out of love, that's the difference between you, you're a good person and he wasn't. I'll be the one to love you but that doesn't mean that people would want us to stay together, they'd want to put you with people who could take care of you properly, they'd separate us." She told him, realising that she had made him feel like he had become separate people - the one thing she had never wanted him to feel and she had made him feel that there were parts of himself that no one would love. This was something she hoped her reply made up for.

"You would never let that happen." He told her confidently, watching as she continued to look longingly in the direction of the people outside.

"You're right. I wouldn't ever let that happen, don't you see Declan? That's why we have to go; I don't want to lose you." She replied with desperation as she lifted his hand and kissed the back of his palm gently.

"But I don't want you to lose _them_ either Emily." He told her and before she knew what he was doing, he had pulled his hand free of hers and pushed the door open a little more.

* * *

><p>He was gone before she could reach out and stop him and no amount of pleading in her whispered way could make him come back. As he reached the end of the hallway, he turned back to her. "It's time to come home." He whispered and then everything changed...<p>

* * *

><p>JJ was racing down the stairs towards the family room, all she could focus on was Declan and the fact that he was not here. The fact that Doyle was lying dead upstairs did not seem significant to her compared to the safety of the child. Perhaps it was the maternal instinct she possessed or maybe it was the fact that she couldn't help but wonder if Declan wasn't already safe with the person she knew had brought them here... She really hoped that she was right in her assumptions because the thought that Declan was out there somewhere alone or worse terrified her more than anything...<p>

"Hotch you need..." The words died on her lips as her eyes fell onto a figure approaching.

She immediately went for her gun, raising it in front of her – had no one cleared the room downstairs? She was proud of herself as she managed to keep her hands steady and took concentrated breaths to steady her nerves.

The figure continued to advance although he had the sense to raise his arms in surrender. He did not appear to be armed and yet, she knew she could not be too careful.

"Get down on the ground." She spoke calmly, not wanting to raise the alarm of the others in case this guy spooked.

She waited a beat before disengaging the safety as he continued to come at her.

"I said get down on the ground. Now." She said again and this time she raised her voice an octave to attract the attention of the others.

She did not have to wait long before they surrounded her, their weapons trained on him. He froze then, quivering as he faced up to the barrels of four guns...

"Please..." He begged... "Please don't shoot... I'm...I'm..." He stumbled over the words as he tried to beg for his life...

JJ lowered her gun then, noticing that he was not a man at all but rather a boy and that there was every possibility that this could be the boy who Emily had sent them here to protect...

* * *

><p>"Declan?" She asked as she took a tentative step towards him. She had seen the photos of the infant and she was pretty sure that the icy blue eyes and cherubim cheeks of this boy matched those of the one her friend had fought so hard to protect.<p>

He nodded vigorously and blew out a relieved breath as the men lowered their guns before holstering them...

"Declan Jones?" Hotch asked for clarification, although they were increasingly certain that this was the boy they had been searching for over the period of two years.

"Uh huh." He replied, taking off the woollen hat his friend had made him wear and revealing his true identity, he still looked terrified.

"It's Ok. We're with the FBI, you're safe." Reid assured him, in his soft voice and the boy smiled weakly.

"You know what happened here tonight right? JJ asked, not wanting to treat him like a child but being conscious to act in a manner which was sensitive to the delicacy with which this situation had to be handled.

"Mm hmm." He replied looking into the kind eyes of the blonde agent.

"Declan do you know who's responsible for this?" Hotch asked needing him to make the cast iron connection that they couldn't.

"There were a group of men, they... they killed my parents." He breathed, the words catching in his throat.

"Your parents?" Derek asked in confusion, they all knew the true identity of his father.

* * *

><p>Declan nodded his head as he craned his neck to see his parents, but the bodies of the men blocked his view. In response to the question he simply nodded his head, before deciding to share. "They adopted me when I was... um seven, I think..." He told them.<p>

"Ok but do you remember anything about your family before you were adopted?" Reid asked quietly, although his tone was not intrusive he was not quite so finessed in practising tact and came directly to his point.

"You mean do I remember my real father? Yeah, I do... and he's the reason why my parents are dead. His name is Ian..." Declan was cut off by the heavy steps and deep voice of David Rossi.

"Hotch you're gonna wanna see this, Doyle is..." He stopped short when his eyes fell onto Declan.

"Dead. He's dead." Declan told them and no one knew what to say as the realisation that he had seen more than he ever should have hit them.

* * *

><p>"That's right son. Did... did you see who did it?" Rossi asked, looking into the wizened eyes of a boy who had been through too much in his young life for any of them to truly understand.<p>

"I don't think that my... Ian Doyle was here at first, when my parents were killed. I've read all about him you see, what he did, what happened when he was arrested and that he killed... your friend, Agent Prentiss." He paused for a moment as the five adults seemed to hold their breath at the mention of their friend's name, he noticed that the blonde agent held his gaze and seemed to be trying to read his eyes. Was it possible that she knew that Emily was alive?

"I know that he's been looking for me, I could hear the men talking about it and trying to find me, but I had hidden in my closet as soon as I heard the noise... they didn't find me... but I heard... everything – my father begging and my mother screaming..." His breathing was really ragged by now as the emotional stress overtook him.

"It's Ok Declan, you're doing really well." JJ soothed, kneeling in front of him and placing her hands on his shoulders in a steadying motion.

"Everything went quiet after a while and I thought it would be safe to come out. I knew I had to get out so I started packing some things but then I heard a thud behind me and suddenly... he was there..." He had avoided mentioning Emily's arrival in case they got the wrong idea about who had killed him. He was taking huge breaths now as he remembered the terrifying moment when his father had landed behind him...

"What happened when he got there Declan?" Morgan asked, hating the evil bastard with every fibre of his being, first for taking his friend and then for terrorising the one person in the world he had purported to care about...

* * *

><p>"He was talking... just talking, he kept trying to tell me that I was safe now and that he had come for me but I knew I wasn't safe with him..." He continued, remembering how he had been insistently asking who was in the house and then how Emily had broken down the door to protect him...<p>

He remembered Emily trying to persuade his father not to take him, not to give him the same life and how she had told him to run – he remembered the scuffle and the sound of a shot being fired, then he remembered how his father had tried strangle Emily and he could see her tears as clearly as if it was happening right in front his eyes all over again. He remembered knowing that he was the only one who could save them and he remembered her anguished cries as she tried to stop him from having to do what he had known he must do... He recalled with astounding clarity the sound of his father's skull as it splintered...

* * *

><p>Suddenly he was crying, hot tears rolling down his cheeks as he realised just what he had done.<p>

"What happened next Declan do you remember?" Hotch asked.

"I don't know... he was trying to take me, to take me away from here. He wanted me to leave with him; he said I was born to be a warrior..." He replied using actual snippets of the conversation Doyle had had with Emily to authenticate his story.

"But you didn't want to go?" Someone asked and he shook his head vigorously as he remembered Emily's insistence that he shouldn't be forced into 'that life.'

"He wouldn't listen... I tried to fight him but he was too strong..." He remembered the way he had kicked free of the grasp his father had had on him...

"How did you get away?" Another voice which sounded far away as he began to drown in the recent past...

"I don't remember exactly, I was thinking that I had to do something, anything to stop him and then there was someone there..." He told them, remembering how he had gone from frightened child to saving Emily so quickly as if some heroic being had entered his body in that moment...

"Someone? Can you describe them?"

"I don't remember his face, he was just there and then he was gone. There was a shot and then he hit Doyle with something large and square shaped, I didn't see what and then he disappeared... but he saved us..." He finished and it was not exactly a lie, Declan Doyle had surfaced for only a matter of moments and then he had disappeared into the furthest recesses of Declan Jones' soul, never to return... but he had saved them – his impulses had taken over and kept them safe, he was the reason that they were alive now.

The team were reeling after having learned that their nemesis, the one they had never been able to defeat in all the time they had been looking for him, had been defeated by some unknown avenger... It just didn't seem real and yet the proof that Doyle was indeed gone lay upstairs in the bedroom of this very frightened boy.

"Did he tell you his name?" Rossi asked.

"No. Like I said, he was here and then he was gone." Declan told them calmly – surprising himself with his ability to lie so easily, perhaps he was more like his father than he had assumed he was.

"Ok well you've done well to remember everything you have Declan, you've really helped us. Now I'm going to suggest you step outside with Agent Jareau whilst we finish up here, it's over now and you're safe." Hotch told him motioning for JJ to take him.

* * *

><p>"No wait! Please I can't leave..." Declan replied in a panic, holding his ground as his eyes wildly sought out the door which lead to the concealed staircase.<p>

"Honey it's Ok, I know you've been through a lot, I know that you don't want to leave you parents but trust me you don't need to see them right now." JJ told him calmly.

"No... Please you don't understand..." He begged.

"Declan what is it? What don't we understand?" JJ asked in confusion.

Derek, who had been watching the boy closely since he had told them about how Doyle had died, was beginning to put the pieces of this puzzle together. There was just something about the way the boy had seemed to recall the events, a gap in the way he retold them which alerted him to the fact that there was something they weren't being told, it seemed to him like a lie by omission. He stepped forward then, studying the way the boy's eyes were trained on the door at the end of the hall...

"That's not the reason why you don't want to leave is it Declan? Your parents I mean... there's someone else here isn't there?" He asked his voice firm and yet forgiving.

"What? No... I..." Declan stumbled over the excuse, knowing that this man had him.

"You used the word 'us', when you told us about the guy who killed Doyle, you used the word 'us'. Who else is here?" Derek told him batting off the excuse.

"I..." He started but JJ's reassuring smile told him that he didn't need to lie anymore.

"It's Ok Declan just tell us who's here, you're not in any trouble but we need to know." She told him gently.

* * *

><p>He bit his lip a little as he contemplated telling them. Emily had been so adamant that she didn't want these people to see her but they seemed to genuinely care and had showed that they still hadn't gotten over her 'death' when he had mentioned it earlier. After several tense seconds wherein they all watched him with nervous eyes, he decided that at last it was time for her to come home...<p>

"If I tell you, do you promise not to be mad at her or try to blame her for this, it wasn't her fault... and you have to promise that you won't take me away from her – she doesn't want that and neither do I." He told them, his voice shaking as he wondered if Emily was even still at the foot of the stairs, or if he had lost her already...

"She? There's a woman here?" JJ asked and her heart was racing as she saw what the others couldn't possibly – she had been right.

"Yes... do you promise?" He asked, holding back her location until he had that assurance.

"Declan I promise you everything is going to be Ok." JJ told him, smiling encouragingly.

He looked into her eyes and found that it was impossible not to trust her. She had that way about her, the way of a mother and he took comfort from it. He nodded then, licking his lips as he pointed towards the door at the end of the hall. "She's in there." He told them as he felt JJ's arms wrap around him protectively...

* * *

><p>Derek was the one who took heed of Declan's admission, breaking away from the group and drawing his gun. He heard Declan's words of despair, but they just didn't know who was going to be behind the door – with everything that had already happened tonight there was just no guarantee of safety for any of them.<p>

As he reached the door he drew in a breath, showing a second's worth of vulnerability before his hand closed around the handle and he prepared to face whoever was behind it.

As the door began to open, he heard the whispered plea of his Baby Girl in his ear over the microphone and earpiece he wore. "Be careful my love..."

* * *

><p>Emily held her breath as she heard the door open and she cursed herself for being such a coward. Again Declan had demonstrated bravery beyond measure and had even kept her out of his retelling of Doyle's death, she knew it was mark of the strength of the emotion he felt for her and she hated that she was hiding in here like this, but somehow seeing the confusion and hurt on her friends' faces was just too much to bear and seemed infinitely worse than staying 'dead'...<p>

* * *

><p>The door was pulled open with all of his usual gusto and there she was. The masked female Declan had described, stood with her back pressed against the bolster of the staircase as she quivered in fear. He took a step towards her, lowering his gun by instinct and reaching out a hand. This woman was afraid, anyone could see that...<p>

She moved away from his proffered hand and sidestepped his advances as she made her way out of the confined space. As she stood in the doorway looking back at him she mustered enough courage to speak...

"_Let me go_." She whispered simply and the ghosts swimming in his eyes were enough to tell her that at last he knew who she was. This knowledge seemed to calm her as she turned away from him and attempted to make her escape.

* * *

><p>She should have known that she wouldn't get far, she should have known he would not allow her to escape but still she was surprised to find herself floored, laying on her back as he pinned her to the ground.<p>

His hands were reaching for the edge of the net which covered her face in his desperation to confirm that he was not in fact going mad and she could hear Declan's sobs as he tried to reach her, tried to free her for the second time that night...

* * *

><p>She fought Derek with all her might but his strength far outweighed hers in her weakened state and she was sure that any minute her greatest secret was about to be revealed.<p>

"How?" He murmured "how is this even possible?" He mumbled more to himself than to anyone else.

She struggled against him, trying to escape but nothing seemed to be working. She could still hear Declan's distress and through the dark net which covered her eyes she could see that the team were now surrounding them as they wrestled each other both with opposite objectives: hers to conceal her identity and his to reveal it.

* * *

><p>"Please... please don't hurt her." Declan begged.<p>

"Derek... Morgan... let her go... let her go." JJ told him desperately, now sure that he had apprehended their friend...

"No... Not until I know..." He told her continuing to fight.

* * *

><p>She was losing the will to fight him anymore, there was no way she was getting out of here with Declan now and there seemed little point in pretending. The boy had been right, she had been running for so long, she had been searching and fighting for so long and she had been holding back the truth for longer than she ever should have and after two years, six months and seventeen days it was finally time to come home.<p>

After being so afraid and alone and living each day in fear for her life, her nemesis was gone and the only people who remained were those who loved her. All she had to do to come home was take off the mask...

She went limp, no longer using her hands to create distance between them and after a while he seemed to slow his desperate struggle.

"Enough... I've had enough..." She whispered and she was grateful when he stopped pinning her and let her sit up.

She drew in a long breath before she reached up and caught the end of the net between her fingers, pulling it off and letting her brunette hair once again fall loose as she stared into the tortured eyes of her friend and partner...

* * *

><p>Everyone stood in stunned silence as they came to terms with the identity of the masked woman. No one quite knew what to say but the truth of the matter was, words didn't seem to matter in that moment. There in the middle of a summer storm in a house containing two horrific crime scenes, eight hearts (one not physically present but there nonetheless) felt the rush of relief that came with the knowledge that Emily Prentiss had come home...<p>

Derek stared at her in utter bewilderment, he had been so sure of her death, had been holding onto the knowledge that in the mess which had followed her absence from the team, her death was the one cast iron fact. There was so much they didn't know about Doyle's case and about Emily Prentiss herself, but the one empirical fact was that she was dead. They had been to her funeral, had witnessed her coffin being lowered into the ground, had said their goodbyes and yet here she was sitting not two feet away from him, breathing heavily as life so clearly flowed through her veins.

"You're... alive..." The words hit the air in a rush of emotion as they seemed to be the only articulate thing he could muster.

She seemed so real, so _life-like, _he could hear the intake of her breathing and see the flush of her cheeks resulting from the exertion of struggling with him and yet he hardly dared to hope that this moment tangibly existed.

"It _is_ me Derek." She smiled weakly and before she knew what was happening he had swept her into his arms as he hugged her as tightly as he could, terrified that she was going to dematerialise in front of his eyes.

* * *

><p>She rested her head on his shoulder as he held her, using this vantage point to look up into the shining eyes of JJ who despite her tears, was smiling widely.<p>

"_I knew you'd figure it out... I knew you'd come." _She smiled, feeling the relief of having been saved and delivered back to her team by the wonderful boy who stood just to her friend's right.

"I _had_ to come – _of course_ I did. When I received that picture I dared to hope and I couldn't leave you out in the world alone. I had to know if it was you." JJ replied, watching as Derek released her and helped her to her feet.

"Thank you." Emily told JJ as her friend wasted no time in drawing her into an embrace. "For everything." She whispered only to her.

"I'm just so glad you're home and that he's gone." JJ replied.

"We're all safe now." Emily replied as she broke away from her friend and stepped closer to Declan.

* * *

><p>"Are you Ok?" He asked her, eyeing her nervously.<p>

"I'm fine, I'm_ fine_. Thank you for being brave and coming out here when I couldn't. I'm so proud of you..." She told him taking off her gloves and touching her hand to his cheek.

"You needed to come home Emily, you were here when I needed you – you were my friend and you needed to see your friends too." She told her as she stepped into the embrace of David Rossi.

"It's good to see you Emily, welcome home." He told her and she smiled, loving that phrase by now.

* * *

><p>She walked across the hall to Spencer who stood with his hands shoved in his pockets as he waited his turn. Of all of them, she knew his reaction was likely to be the most volatile since in the weeks leading up to Doyle's return and her subsequent 'death', they had grown particularly close. It was about more than the previous familial affection they had shared, it had become about her acting as a confidant for the guarded young doctor who struggled to articulate personal feelings. She had been the only one to have knowledge of his intensely painful headaches and she had been the one to offer him quiet reassurances. Right now, she knew from the way he avoided her eye as she approached that he was wondering why, in the time prior to her confrontation with Doyle, she had not trusted him enough to ask his advice and why she had faked her death in this way. She knew he saw them all as family as each member of the team did, but for Reid she understood that the stability of their group made up for the deficit he had experienced in his personal life and she realised that this betrayal was likely to cause major imbalances in his finely structured emotional order.<p>

At first as she came level with him, he made no move to acknowledge her presence, keeping his eyes trained away from her and his hands buried deep in his pockets - almost like a school boy who had been chastised – However, when he realised that she wasn't about to pass him by without having first reacquainted herself, he raised his head and offered her his statement thin-lipped and slightly lopsided grin. It didn't quite reach his eyes and therefore was not forgiveness, but she sensed that getting over this was going to take some time so she would take anything they had to offer her – hugs and smiles or anger and disappointment, she knew she probably deserved the latter two far more than the acceptance the first two gestures suggested and she understood that.

"Why'd you hide away like that?" He asked quietly, his brow furrowed and his eyes furtive.

"I wanted to come out, I wanted you to know I was here but I was afraid that you all wouldn't want to see me when you knew that I was still alive." She told him, hanging her head in shame. _Some brave FBI agent she was..._

"You thought we wouldn't want to see you and to know that you're safe? What happened to you Emily? We used to be a family, _we are your family and we could've helped_." Spencer told her and she could hear the pain his voice.

"Someone did help me, JJ helped me and I'm more grateful to her that I can ever say, but after Doyle escaped that night we knew it wouldn't be safe for all of you to know that I was alive. We knew that you'd try to bring me home and I couldn't risk being close to you because you are all too important to me and I didn't want him to hurt you. Can you understand that? I did this because you are the people that I love..." She told him and suddenly she was not only speaking to Spencer but the whole team, trying to get them to understand.

"I get that you wanted to protect us but was there really no other way? Did you really have to go away?" He asked and his tone mimicked that of Declan a few hours ago so much so that she felt a tear sliding down her cheek.

"I _had_ to, you don't know Doyle like I do. He wouldn't have stopped until he had taken his revenge on me, until he had not only taken my life but all the lives of the ones I loved. I had to do this and I am_ so_ sorry, if there was any way I could have told you that I was Ok I would have, but I couldn't put you at risk." She told him crying a little now.

"But you didn't tell us now did you? You were going to run again..." Reid told her.

"I'm sorry, I've been so afraid... I didn't know what to tell you, how to explain... I never thought I'd be able to come home, I thought I'd always be running and I'm just so sorry I couldn't say anything, I only hope that one day you'll understand why I did this and that you can forgive me." She told him passionately, hoping that her sincerity was conveyed in her words.

She was backing away from him now, preparing to walk away and she knew that she had blown this. She started to wonder if telling them from the start would've been better – at least that way she wouldn't have been lying and committing this unforgivable betrayal...

* * *

><p>Before she could get too far away, he reached out and caught her hand with his, keeping her there and refusing to let her go. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze as she looked into his eyes and saw the ghosts of those who had abandoned him there – his father, Gideon, his mother (however unwillingly) and now her... She had never wanted to hurt him that way but she realised that the scars of what she had done would run deep and probably never completely heal.<p>

"Don't leave us again Ok?" He asked.

"I'm not going anywhere I promise." She replied although she knew she couldn't be sure. She did not even dare to hope that her spot on the team was still open.

"Ok." He sighed.

"Ok." She agreed and she knew on some level he understood. This was only cemented when he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her in the briefest of hugs. It was all she needed and she sensed that it was everything he had been waiting for, a chance to express how much she meant to him. Right now she felt every ounce of his emotion...

* * *

><p>She pulled away when he released her and it was with reluctance. Somehow, just being held by a friend made her feel that there was nothing more to fear despite the fact that she now faced so much uncertainty. For two years she had lived the life of a rogue, hardly sleeping, taking no time to recover, moving from place to place and living in the shadows. Whilst she had lived amongst people, they had been the kind that inhabited the in-between places, neither living nor dead, neither human nor completely inhuman – criminals and for a while she had acted as they had. So whilst she had walked amongst the living she had not really inhabited civilisation and being back was going to take some getting used to.<p>

At present she had no home, not a penny to her name and only the tiniest glimmer of regaining the job she loved. She had lost the respect of her team and she knew that it was something which would have to earned back over a long period of time. Realistically, she knew she had little hope of ever restoring their faith in the ability they had previously had to trust her by instinct and to know that she did everything for the good of the team, but she could only try. Plus there were the new developments – like how she protected Declan now, when the team would undoubtedly realise that there was no mystery avenger. She knew she could explain away the shot as defensive, but the attack with the paperweight would look malicious however she played it. She could say it was her and she would if anyone asked, but that didn't make it go it away. It would be another issue that needed to be dealt with and she wasn't sure how to even go about that right now. Then of course there was Declan himself. She would try to do everything in her power to ensure that they weren't separated and that he got to spend the rest of his life with her, the one person left who could understand the multiple people the poor boy had been forced to become since he had been born. But the question that burned in her mind was how did she cope with a teenage boy in her life when she wasn't even sure she could take care of herself anymore? What would happen if she did get back onto the team and was called away on a case and perhaps most frighteningly of all, was she ready to be this boy's mother? She hardly knew but she would try. She knew right now that there was only one person in the world she wanted to talk to about all of this and he was the one person who had silently absented himself from this reunion.

* * *

><p>She cast her eyes around but could not see him in the family room or in the kitchen and in fact as she searched for him, she found he was not even in the house at all. After sending a reassuring smile in the direction of Declan, she walked out of the house and down the gravelled pathway, spotting him at the foot of the drive, leaning against the Yukon and breathing heavily.<p>

* * *

><p>"Hotch?" She asked gently, hoping to rouse him from his despairing state. The man jumped and it frightened the Hell out of her. She had never seen him in this state before and yet she had obviously startled him.<p>

"Oh... Prentiss... Emily, I'm sorry I just wasn't expecting you." He replied, immediately noting his mistake – of course he hadn't been expecting her, although he had known that she had survived Doyle's attack, he had not imagined that he would ever see her again. Doyle had simply seemed too elusive and strong, and yet he was laying up there in that bedroom defeated and dead...

"I know. Talk about 'seeing a ghost' huh?" She replied with a small laugh but her slight smile faded as she met his reproachful stare.

"I'm sorry." She told him quickly, realising her own lack of tact. She was forced to look away from those eyes, the ones she could fall right into if she stared long enough as she saw the never ending well of unreadable emotions there...

"Are you..." He started but something, the emotion of this reunion, caught in his throat and stopped the words.

"I'm fine Hotch. Honestly. Much better for being able to come home". She replied, sensing that this was the nature of his question.

"Good. I'm glad, really I am – that you're back where you belong." His tone was clipped as he ran a hand through his hair and tried to deal with the stress of all of this.

"You know, it's good to see you Hotch." She sighed after a moment, a violent gust of wind lifting her long hair and making it swirl around her head like leaves in the autumn for a moment.

"It's good to see you too Emily, I'm glad that you got home safely." He replied, a sliver of emotion colouring his speech. She was standing opposite him, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she chewed her lip. The air around them was charged with the heaviness of the weather and the threat of further thunder and, undeniably, something more personal. A crack of lightening illuminated her features for a split second and in that moment, he made a snap decision – he reached out and closed his hand around her right forearm, giving her an affectionate squeeze through the thick leather of the jacket she wore – it wasn't much, wasn't even what he had imagined doing if he ever saw her again, but it was something and that had to count. The motion confused her as she felt him apply pressure to her arm, so many times in the past there had been the longing looks, the lingering touches, the hand on her hip as they entered a crime scene, things that were stored in her memory as unexplainable and confusing instants but now, they were surfacing once again and she still didn't know what they meant.

* * *

><p>Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky and this momentary light allowed her to catch a glimpse of his eyes. There was such feeling there as she had never witnessed and she could see the darkness of his need reflected in the black pools. She suddenly became possessed by the overwhelming urge to uncoil her own hand from its position around her elbow and touch him, but then they were cast back into the darkness and he drew back, the moment passing as suddenly as it had come.<p>

"How did he die Emily?" He asked after a while, his tone low so as not to attract the attention of the local P.D.

For the longest time she was silent, chewing her lip in the darkness as she thought about how to answer him. She should have known that of all people he would be the one to notice the discrepancies in Declan's story, particularly when he had factored in her presence. She knew what he was asking her but she would not incriminate the child. She would rather serve the prison sentence herself, she would rather never see the team again as punishment than let the boy be blamed for protecting her...

"He tried to kill me Hotch. Again. He hated that I had gotten to Declan first and he wanted to make me pay for surviving. I had to do something, I couldn't let Declan be left alone with him... I shot him, that's all... I shot him... he died." Emily told him with a confidence in her voice that she did not feel...

"Emily... Declan mentioned the shot but that wasn't what killed him. He also mentioned 'a square object'... What do you know about that?" He asked.

"Look Hotch, Doyle had me pinned and he was crushing my windpipe – if you don't believe me I'm sure in the light I'll have the bruises to prove it. What happened is inconsequential, all that matters is that he's dead, he's gone and we're all safe, the team, Declan and me..." She told him.

"You're a part of the team Emily, you're still a part of the team, don't ever think that you're not." He told her, his voice filling up with that unfathomable emotion again.

"I... I know I guess I just thought that after everything, the lies, the hiding and tonight you would all hate me." She replied baring her soul.

"What aren't you telling me?" He asked, changing the subject so as not to have to deal with the issues surrounding that whole mess.

"I don't know Hotch what do you _think_ I'm not telling you?" She shot the question back at him.

"I'll be damned if I know Emily... there's so much I don't know about Doyle and about how the case worked, I don't even know if you were ever honest about yourself and I understand that, at least I think I do. But on a professional level and as agent for the Bureau I'm asking you to be honest about this, I need to know the truth." He told her.

"I told you what happened, _I _shot him Ok? I shot him and he died" She replied firmly.

" You shot him but you didn't kill him did you? _You_ didn't hit him – Declan did didn't he?" Hotch putting in the missing piece of the puzzle.

She gasped a little and she knew it gave her away. Try as she might to protect him, she had failed.

"I won't say it Hotch and you have no evidence to back that up. You could help him if you really wanted to. You could let him be Matthew Simmons the one survivor of this horrific crime scene. Your report could detail Doyle's death for what it is, a defensive killing - you're going to have to include me in your write up and I'll give a statement which supports that conclusion - it is the truth after all. You might think that this seems to conincidental to be true but it is - Doyle tried to kill me and in so doing, ended up dead. It was him or me and t turns out I survived. What neeeded to be done was done and the logistics of that are unimportant. Don't tell me that if it was you in there with me, seeing him trying to strangle me, you wouldn't have acted the same way. I know you better than that. Please, Aaron, please I'm asking you to do this one thing for me. I'm not expecting forgiveness, I don't want you to pull any strings at the Bureau, I just need you to give him a chance to be a normal boy living a normal life." She begged hoping that using his first name would appeal to his more personal, human side.

"Emily I can't just look the other way..." He told her, knowing she would hate him for it.

"We defended _you_ Hotch. When Strauss set up the investigation into the death of Foyet, we understood your reasoning, we knew you had to avenge Haley's... losing her and we accepted that you had to do what was necessary to protect the one you loved. This is the exact same thing. Doyle was threatening me, he was threatening you – the people I loved and he was threatening Declan and I had to deal with him." She told him and she knew it was a low blow but she was desperate and defeated.

* * *

><p>"That was... I <em>had<em> to..." He breathed out the words quietly, shocked that she had used Foyet against him, but knowing that she was desperate.

"I know and I'm not saying that you were wrong but I _am _asking you to understand – I _had_ to do this too. What if it had been Jack?" She asked, knowing she was making the insinuation that he wanted her to make but also being aware that she could not pretend that it hadn't happened, this was Hotch and she couldn't lie to him.

"If it was Jack I would want to protect him." He admitted, finally seeing her point.

"Then please, help us. Protect us, help me to protect Declan." She implored waiting for his responsive with bated breath.

* * *

><p>"Are you going to come home?" He asked, ignoring her request and asking the question which had been burning in his mind since he had first set eyes on her in the house.<p>

"I can only come home if I know Declan will be safe." She told him firmly.

"I can only protect you if you're here Emily." He told her with equal firmness.

"Touché." She whispered.

"You belong here with your family." He replied and she knew it was the truth, but she was principled and she would not compromise Declan for her own sake.

"I have to protect Declan Hotch - that has to be my priority." She told him with a passion which matched the strength of her feelings for the boy.

"We can help you Emily, but surely you can understand that we can't do that if we don't know where you are or if you're safe out there alone. Here you have nothing to fear, Doyle is gone and you and Declan will be safe, here I can make sure that no one comes to know the truth... but I need..." He told her, trailing off as he considered what he needed from her.

"What? _What_ do you need from me? _What_ do you want me to say Hotch?" She asked, her tone curious and her patience thin.

"Only that you trust me to do the right thing." He replied.

"That's one thing I've always done." She told him with sincerity.

"Then do we have a deal?"

"A deal?" She asked in confusion not sure exactly what they were bargaining here. She would not compromise Declan's safety and he would not forfeit his principles, it was the way they had always worked – they were both principled and equally unrelenting.

"Our protection for your return." He clarified and there was something about his tone which told her that their protection was for Declan and that her return would provide her with the love and support she needed.

She was silent for a minute as she watched him walk back towards the house. She sensed he viewed this as symbolic, would she go with him back to the house and to the team or would she stand here out in the cold refusing the protection and the love he had offered her?

She nodded in the dark although he was turned away from her and didn't see the gesture. It was time to accept that she couldn't always do things alone.

* * *

><p>"Hotch wait." She called, jogging a little to catch up with him.<p>

He turned towards her and in the limited light she could sense the ghost of smile on his lips as she came level with him.

"It's time to come home." She told him as together they walked back towards the house and to the team...

* * *

><p><strong>Well there it is, I hope you enjoyed it. It certainly took some thinking about particularly as I had set Emily up with some slightly odd behaviour. I hope I explained everything and that you liked the way Emily came back to the team. The next chapter is where the Hotch and Emily element starts coming into play... I really hope you enjoyed what I did with the little hints... I guess you'll have to wait and see how that develops. <strong>

**I hope I caught all the edits, I've looked through it and think I have but if not, please forgive me.**

**I would love to know what you thought of this, your comments always make me smile and inspire me to write more. **

**The next chapter is in progress and will be ready in a day or so... **

**Thanks for reading. **

**Love**

_**X~Michelle~X **_


	4. Everything and Nothing

**Hello lovely people :-) **

**Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews on the last chapter, I'm so glad that you enjoyed Emily's reunion with the team; it really does make me smile to know that you support this story even in its early stages. This is the start of the H/P element, no spoilers but I'm expecting that you won't be fully satisfied by the way this one turns out but... that's why this is multi chaptered after all**

**;-)**

**Nevertheless I hope that you will enjoy this one. **

**Oh and a little note: Hotch may appear to step away from his portrayal on the show a little, but it's to fit the overall direction of the story and since it's fan fiction I'm sure you'll forgive me. **

**Also Declan appears in this chapter as Matthew because Emily is trying to give him some semblance of being a normal boy without any of his worries, but the dangers of doing this will be explored in the next chapter.**

**My author's note remains the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, any of its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

><p><em>~ "<em>_There is nothing like __returning__ to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.__"~ Nelson Mandela. _

The storm which had been the dramatic backdrop to her reunion with the team had not quite reached the state of Virginia as the cab pulled away from the curb and the two weary figures made their way across a neatly clipped bright emerald lawn and up the stairs to a porch which to Emily Prentiss was both familiar and yet strangely alien. Whilst there was no thunder or lightening to add gusto to the thrilling climax of her time away, the air was thick with the threat of rain and the sticky heat only exacerbated the nerves she felt at the thought of facing the person behind the door.

She used the reflection the side pane of the front door to check her appearance as best she could, flattening a few stray hairs and blowing out a breath which seemed to do little for her nerves. She turned to Declan who stood with silent patience beside her and he offered her a reassuring smile before slipping his hand into hers and squeezing lightly. She appreciated the gesture; it made her feel less alone in this situation.

"Are you ready?" She murmured, her eyes fixed onto the polished cedar- wood which had remained an unchanging feature of this place.

He nodded, drawing in a deep breath and licking his lips. "Are you?" He asked.

"As I'll ever be." She replied as she reached out her finger and pressed the door bell despite the ungodly hour of their arrival.

* * *

><p>She made her way to the door, groping around in the darkness for a light switch and proceeding with caution. She had a panic button installed to the left of the door but she had to be sensible – it was late and in her line of work she would have been foolish to assume that she has accrued no enemies, she was ruthless and gutsy and so had gained a reputation which showed that she was one tough cookie. Of course, this put her more at risk and meant that her life was exercised with a certain amount of prudent vigilance but she would not be scare-mongered in the night because somebody did not like the way she operated. So she made her way to the door armed with her unwaveringly resolute passivity and the knowledge that the local police department was thirty seconds away.<p>

She reached the door and twisted the lock, silently holding her breath as she experienced the wave of fear she was automatically susceptible to as a lone woman in a huge house with no one to call on. For all her bravery, she was still human and not physically strong; if someone had come for her she was almost powerless to stop them. She kept the security chain on as she peered out of the gap she had created and her eyes fell onto the worried gaze of a young boy. She was not foolish – she still did not open the door but felt the rising of curiosity within her as she tried to determine whether or not she knew the boy. She was just about to ask him to leave when she heard a familiar voice which turned the blood to ice in her veins.

"Mom?" Emily asked concernedly as she noticed the frightened eyes of the woman who was usually so resolute and emotionally controlled.

"Emily?" Her mother replied and she was sure that the older woman was about to faint. Emily knew that Elizabeth's level of knowledge concerning her safety had been limited but she was sure that she had been told that she was alive; nevertheless she looked like she had seen a ghost...

"Can we come in?" Emily asked gently and her mother could only nod, her mouth feeling like cotton as she unchained the door and opened it wide enough to let the two of them enter...

* * *

><p>"You're... here." Elizabeth murmured after a while taking in the familiar features of the daughter she had never thought she would see again.<p>

"I am... He's gone Mom, I'm safe... _we're_ safe." She replied, drawing her mother's attention to Declan.

"I'm glad, it's good to see you Emily." Elizabeth told her, wanting to step forward to and embrace her daughter but feeling that the awkwardness of their history stopped her from doing so. She also sensed that Emily did not wish to answer too many questions concerning the circumstances of her arrival here tonight and she could respect that. Her daughter looked tired and travel worn, like the journey back had been full of trials and all she wanted to do was take care of her.

Emily observed her mother for a moment as they all stood just inside the door of the large house she had purchased when she had decided that Virginia would once again become her static location six years ago. She looked different to how Emily remembered, softened somehow by the years that she had been separated from her. She considered the possibility that this change could be an immediate one – in response to the relief she so clearly felt at her return, but she sensed that perhaps this change ran deeper than that. It looked as though the years of being a hard-nosed, take-no-prisoners politician had finally begun taking its toll on the iron woman who had always been her unreachable mother. There was a wizened weariness in her eyes which came from dealing with some harrowing political and foreign affairs and perhaps also from suffering a loss like Elizabeth Prentiss had, however final it had been. In the harsh, artificial light, her mother had never looked more vulnerable and more human. Although she was not particularly old, she had lost some of that regal aloofness which had set her apart in the room full of liars she had called her peers and Emily came to realise then that perhaps more than one Prentiss woman had made her return in recent times.

She looked the way she had always looked, her posture was as upright as ever, the planes of her face as chiselled as she had always remembered and she even wore the same white kimono decorated with purple lotus flowers which her father had brought back for her when Emily had been no more than five years old, from an assignment in Japan. How Emily had loved that Kimono when she was growing up. She remembered creeping into her mother's bedroom when she was working in her office and slipping the silk around her shoulders, feeling its smoothness against her skin as she breathed in the scent of _Diorissimo _and lemongrass shampoo, two combining smells which had brought her closer to her mother than she had ever been able to be in reality. That Kimono had been one of the few raw expressions of her father's true feelings for her mother, the intimacy of it far exceeding any forced emotions they displayed in theposed photographs which still hung about this place as though they were relics of some golden age in their lives. The truth behind those pictures of course, was that her mother had felt so desperately alone. Left in America to raise her young daughter and to try to maintain some dignity in her career whilst her father, someone who Emily would barely have remembered if not for those photographs, worked assignments in numerous foreign lands. It had been tough on Elizabeth she knew, and the woman bore the marks of the stress – her coppery hair was, in spite of her scrupulous efforts, laced with silver and her body showed signs of the fatigue of a lifetime of ruthlessness and right now, Emily could honestly say she had never been happier to see her mother...

"It's good to see you too Mom." She replied, surprising herself and her mother by stepping forward and gathering her towards her in a tight embrace. It was a first, Emily never made the first move, always under the impression that her mother, who was so often cast as the bad guy when she thought about her life, should be the one to extend the olive branch.

Elizabeth got over the shock pretty quickly, her right arm securing around Emily's back and her left hand smoothing through her brunette curls in a soothing gesture she didn't think she had honestly ever shown her daughter before.

"My brave girl." She whispered as she held her, not sure that she ever wanted to let her go again.

"I missed you." Emily told her, resting her head on her shoulder and feeling a little thrill run through her as she breathed in the faintest scent of that strong, heady perfume her mother had worn all those years ago. Whilst the scent her mother wore may have changed, it warmed her heart to know that somehow, the kimono had retained and encapsulated some of her fondest memories.

"I missed you too, I'm glad you've come here." Elizabeth told her warmly before releasing her and turning her attention to Declan. "So who do we have here?" Elizabeth asked casually, she had not been made privy to the existence of Declan Jones and so asked the question with genuine curiosity.

"This is Matthew, he's a friend of mine and is going to be staying with me once I get settled back here. In the mean time we came here because I really needed to see you and I don't have anywhere to call home right now." Emily told her disguising Declan's true identity now that his father was gone. It was time to let him be the boy he should have always had the chance to be and that meant allowing him to let go of everything that had happened when he had been Declan. She found that what she said about needing refuge and needing to see her mother was true, whilst she did not have anywhere to stay, the need to see her mother had far outweighed her need for shelter.

It seemed strange to her, she had never had a particularly strong relationship with her but she guessed it had been seeing Declan again after so much time and knowing that he had had the love of a mother he had never deserved to lose. She supposed that Declan's loss made her appreciate her own mother more than she ever had before.

"Well it's nice to meet you Matthew." Elizabeth smiled.

"You too Ambassador Prentiss." He replied, returning her smile and remembering what Emily had told him about her mother being an Ambassador.

"Oh call me Elizabeth, no need for pomp and ceremony here anymore, I haven't been on an assignment in four years now." Elizabeth told them and Emily could see the pain in her eyes as she told them the truth.

"Mom I..." Emily started but Elizabeth batted away the concern in her daughter's voice with a wave of her hand.

"There's plenty of time for all that later, right now I think it's about time we put the record straight – you will always have a home here and you're welcome to stay as long as you need to – I'm happy to have you here, _both_ of you." She told them and for the first time in a long time Emily felt like she belonged somewhere.

"Thanks, it means a lot to hear you say that." Emily replied.

"Well I mean it. Now can I get you anything? I can make you a plate of something if you're hungry?" Elizabeth asked feeling all remaining tiredness drain from her as she focused on being a mother.

"I think we'd just really like to get some sleep if you don't mind." Emily replied, noticing the way that Declan's eyes grew heavier and his body seemed more leaden as more time passed.

"Of course, I understand – you must have come a long way." Elizabeth conceded.

"You could say that, yes." Emily told her, hoping that this would be enough to satiate her mother's thirst for information.

Elizabeth nodded, knowing that when the time was right her daughter would offer her the information she saw fit and for now, this was enough for her. "Ok well follow me." Elizabeth replied leading them up the stairs and towards the guests room, which despite the lack of guests in recent times, were already made up – just in case.

* * *

><p>"Ok Matthew, why don't you take that room, there's a bathroom just down the hall– you brought pyjamas right?" Emily asked, eyeing his rucksack as she opened the door to the first room they stopped at, she hadn't even thought to check on things like that so bent was she on getting him out safely.<p>

"Mm hmm, I remembered. You'll come and say goodnight right?" He asked and again she was reminded that he was still only a child – something which after tonight she may have been tempted to overlook, but which she saw now, she could not forget.

"Of course I will, why don't you go and change and I'll be there in a sec." She smiled and watched as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"Thanks for this Mom – letting us stay here and for not asking questions, I appreciate it." Emily told her when they were alone.

"Hey that's what Moms are for right? You need to rest now and I understand that, there's plenty of time for talking later. Now, we know Matthew's sorted but what about you? You don't have a bag with you, do you need something to sleep in?" She asked.

"I've been moving around a lot, I didn't really have time to accrue many personal affects, in fact I don't really have a lot at all – no more than the clothes I'm stood it. It'd be great if I could borrow something." Emily replied, feeling slightly awkward at having to ask.

"Of course and don't you worry about thing, I'll sort all of this out. Borrow something tonight and then we'll go down to the storage company in the morning – all of your things are there – your clothes, furniture and everything else so we'll drive over there and we'll get what you need and the rest can stay there until you're in a new place Ok?" She soothed as she moved towards her own bedroom in search of some sleepwear and Emily viewed her as a slight wonder-woman, casually righting the wrongs in her life.

* * *

><p>"I'm afraid I only have nightgowns is that Ok?" Elizabeth asked.<p>

"That's fine, thanks." Emily called back following the sound of her mother's voice through to the bedroom.

"Here you go." Elizabeth held out a plain white nightgown to her.

"Thanks." Emily murmured taking the clothing.

"Oh... I almost forgot I have something else for you." Elizabeth told her crossing the room and reaching down beside her bed, returning after a moment with a bundle in her arms.

"One not so little kitten, safe and sound." The older woman smiled as Emily held out her hands eagerly for the sleeping cat who, Elizabeth was right, was no longer a kitten anymore.

"Sergio! You took him for me?" Emily asked in disbelief.

"Of course, I put the rest of your things into storage, hoping that one day you'd be able to come home so it seemed only right that he should stay here with me until you could come get him." Elizabeth replied.

"Thanks Mom." She told her, overwhelmed by the changes in her mother.

"You're welcome, now go and get some sleep you look exhausted. Rest for as long as you need and we'll talk tomorrow Ok?" Elizabeth told her, pulling maternal rank on her.

"Ok. Goodnight Mom." She murmured, her voice already heavy with sleep.

"Goodnight Emily." She replied, pressing a tiny kiss to her daughter's cheek before she watched her leave and close the door behind her.

* * *

><p>Emily entered Declan's room to find him hanging the few items of clothing he had brought with him in the closet.<p>

"You don't have to do that now, we have plenty of time to sort everything out in the morning." She told him softly as she came up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Mom says..." He started but then stopped abruptly at the thought of his mother. "I'm sorry I know I shouldn't talk about her." He apologised.

"Why not? Of course you can talk about your parents. So tell me – what did your Mom say?" Emily asked and he smiled appreciatively at her.

"She said you should never go to bed until you've finished everything you have to do, if it's worth doing then it's worth doing now." He told her.

"Ok, so let's finish it then." Emily replied and together they worked their way through the bag until everything was put away.

She reached into the rucksack to check that it was empty and her hand closed around a magazine. She pulled it out and looked at the cover – _National Geographic. _

"I have a Geography test tomorrow... I mean I _had_ a test tomorrow. Do you think I should call Mr Salter?" He asked, explaining that.

"I think my team have that under control and I don't want you to worry about school – we'll get you enrolled at one here and you'll be fine. In the meantime I can always call my friend Spencer and he'll test you. He knows pretty much everything so he'll keep you busy." She smiled, not failing to notice the twinge of pain which went straight through her heart at the mention of her team and the thought of her second a abandonment.

They were silent for a moment and he moved towards the bed, the thought of the comfort it offered him drawing him in. "Thank you Emily... for coming back for me and for saving me." He murmured as his head hit the pillow and she drew the comforter up to his chin.

"I think you have that the wrong way around. It's me who should be thanking you." She told him, smoothing his wispy blonde hair from his eyes a little.

She sat on the edge of the bed as she watched him close his eyes and give in to sleep. She would stay until she was sure that slumber had taken him. Just as she was about to leave, she heard his voice.

"Emily?" He whispered sleepily.

"Mmm?"

"Why'd you tell your Mom my name was Matthew?" He asked.

"I told her because that's who you are now. I want you to forget about Declan and all the things he saw, I just want you to be happy. You're safe here and I want you to know that you always will be. You understand why I did this right?"

"Yes." He whispered.

"Good. Sleep well Matthew." She told him.

"You too Emily." He murmured and then he was asleep. As she got up from the edge of the bed she leant forward and placed a tender kiss to his forehead.

* * *

><p>It seemed that here in this house they would both be safe. It appeared that everything had changed for them now and yet she knew that deep down nothing had. She was still running, she was still afraid and yet she was also, quite miraculously, still Emily Prentiss...<p>

In her own room Emily quickly stripped out of the heavy dark clothes she had been wearing, changing into the night gown her mother had leant her before settling Sergio down for the night. As her head hit the pillow of the first comfortable bed she had slept in for almost two years, she welcomed the sleep which greeted her...

* * *

><p><em><strong>The next morning... <strong>_

In the large stainless steel kitchen of her equally large house, Elizabeth Prentiss was panicking. This kitchen had been selected from a brochure as something that all the elite people had and had been used as a focal point in conversation but in terms of actual use, she had to admit that she did not have much experience. When she held a function here she hired people who knew what they were doing and she was rarely at home to have time to cook herself something. But here she was at a little after 10 a.m, dressed in a starched white blouse and white linen mix pants preparing to do battle with the oven.

It shouldn't have a hard task for a woman in her fifties – a few pancakes and some toast but here she was having a meltdown all over the polished granite worktops. Breakfast for her had been over the years a meal she had heard of rather than experienced. Unless a client or friend needed a breakfast meeting, Elizabeth's typical start to the day was, she was not afraid to admit, usually a scotch on the rocks and a motivational mantra. Doing her job required her to have a lot of confidence, a quality which had not always come easily to her despite what her daughter might have thought. The burn of the scotch accompanied with the repetition of the words _'I am as good as my husband' _oddly seemed to be the exact combination of ingredients she needed to allow her to fake the confidence she needed. In light of this however, she now found herself completely at a loss for how to go about preparing a breakfast spread for her guests which would make her seem competent enough in taking care of them.

She had put the coffee on, something for which she had particular flourish and then turned her attention to the eggs which lay on the countertop. She was just about to crack one into the pan and begin the process of making something which in some way resembled a pancake when the door bell rang. As she abandoned the egg and made her way to the door, she silently thanked whoever was behind it for delaying her embarrassment for a little while longer.

* * *

><p>When she opened the door she was not at all surprised to find herself looking into the serious eyes of Aaron Hotchner, who wore a stern expression which matched the severity of his posture.<p>

"Hello Agent Hotchner, I had wondered how long it would take for you to come here. What can I do for you?" She asked breezily. In many ways glad that he had come, Emily needed to return to some semblance of normality as soon as possible and she could hardly do that hiding out here, three hours drive from the Bureau and all of her friends.

"Emily _is_ here then?" He asked and she saw that relief washed over his features.

"Yes she's here." Elizabeth replied as confirmation.

"May I speak with her?" He asked.

"I'm afraid Emily is still sleeping. She's slept pretty hard since she got here last night... well I guess technically she arrived this morning. I'm sure she'll be up soon though if you'd like to come in and wait." She told him, hoping that he would take her up on the offer, this man was an important part of her daughter's life.

"If you wouldn't mind." Hotch replied as he stepped a little closer.

"Please, come in." She answered showing him inside, saying nothing as she noticed that in place of the briefcase she had always seen him carry, he carried a holdall...

* * *

><p>She showed him through to the kitchen and offered him a seat at the breakfast island in the middle of the room. He took it and she went back to the countertop upon which sat the ingredients for her abandoned breakfast.<p>

"I was just about to make pancakes... but I'm uh... a little rusty, it's been a long time since I had to make them." She told him by way of explanation as she realised he was watching her with those intense eyes. She was surprised by how easily the lie had rolled off her tongue – she had never made pancakes for Emily when she was a child, she had always been too busy with matters of state and her daughter had, shamefully, always been someone else's responsibility.

"There's something of a knack to the perfect pancake." He replied as he watched her pick up an egg and roll it between her fingers nervously as if she really had no idea what to do with it.

"I'm sure." She murmured, hating that she was under his scrutiny.

"They're something of a favourite with my son. Would you like me to help?" He asked getting down from the stool he had occupied and coming to stand beside her.

"You're a guest, I couldn't possibly expect you to..." She started but he cut across her polite refusal.

"I really don't mind, here I'll show you." He offered stepping into her place and mixing up a batter with the ingredients she had laid out in what appeared to her to be two seconds flat.

"It's so easy." She commented watching him with admiration.

"When you know how. I don't suppose you have any blueberries? Jack says they taste good with blueberries." Hotch suggested.

"You don't have personal experience?" She asked mildly surprised as she moved towards her industrial sized refrigerator and went in search of the fruit.

"I'm more of a _Bran-flakes _man, pancakes are a Saturday thing in our house but I prefer them savoury anyway... mostly with bacon." He replied, not sure why he was telling her all this.

"I see. I thought Emily and Matthew might appreciate them." Elizabeth told him and Hotch realised then that Emily had already begun work to establish this second identity for Declan.

"I'm sure they will." He replied as he began tossing the pancakes and she washed the fruit, both activities seeming strangely companionable with this woman who had so often seemed to possess a prickly sort of disposition which kept everyone at arm's length – he knew he had often been described the same way. Perhaps now their concern for Emily was something which drew them together.

She watched as he arranged the pancakes on the plate she had set aside and moved them towards the island.

"I'm sorry, I haven't even offered you a cup of coffee would you like one?" She asked going to the machine.

"Please. Black, no sugar would be great." He replied and accepted the cup when she offered it to him.

"Thank you." He murmured as he took a sip of the searing liquid.

"I'm sure Emily won't be long – let me just go check on her." She told him, leaving the room and heading towards the stairs.

* * *

><p>She met her daughter halfway, apparently Emily had been on her way down of her own accord. Maybe the smell of the breakfast had roused her.<p>

"Are those pancakes I can smell?" She asked.

"Sure, would you like some? I'm sure you're hungry by now." Elizabeth replied.

"I'd love some. I'm starving." Emily told her, watching her mother carefully – it was unlike her to doing something like making breakfast. In fact Emily couldn't ever remember the two of them sitting down to breakfast of a morning.

"Come down then." She replied, noting that Emily had borrowed the spare bathrobe she kept in her bedroom. "Is Matthew awake yet?" She asked as they reached the foot of the stairs.

"I haven't heard him yet but he had a rough night, I think it's best to let him sleep and I'll make sure he has something to eat later." Emily replied.

"Ok that's fine, you make yourselves at home – we'll drive out the storage centre like we said after breakfast alright?" Elizabeth asked, pushing her towards the kitchen.

"Ok... What's the matter Mom?" She asked, noting how her mother was pushing her further and further towards the kitchen whilst she herself seemed reluctant to re-enter the room.

"There's someone here to see you Emily." She told her and then she was gone, lost in the caverns of this endless house as Emily's eyes settled open the crop of dark hair and straight set of a familiar pair of shoulders...

* * *

><p>"Hotch? What are you doing here?" She asked stepping around the island and facing him.<p>

"Hello Emily." He replied, before blushing a little and looking away as he noticed her attire.

She looked down realising then what he saw. The pale pink robe she wore was hanging open and beneath it she wore only her mother's white silk nightgown over her dark underwear. This was so embarrassing.

"I... Oh... I'm... sorry I... I wasn't expecting anyone." Emily told him gathering the robe around her and tying the knot more tightly.

"No... It was my fault, I should have thought you'd still be sleeping." He replied watching as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Why are you here Hotch?" She asked, her face turned away from him as she pretended to study the view out of the window.

"I could ask you the same question." He told her.

"What do you mean? You know why I'm here... I have nowhere else to go right now..." She replied in dumbfounded astonishment – surely that much was obvious.

"That's not true – any one of us would have offered you somewhere to stay – the truth is you're still running, you're still hiding."

"I'm not hiding... I came back didn't I?" She asked in disbelief, why was he attacking her like this?

"You came back yes, but you didn't come home. We had a deal Emily, I can't protect you if I don't know where you are."

"But you do! You're here now aren't you?" She shot the question at him, rounding on him quickly.

"You disappeared as soon as we landed, none of us even knew you'd gone – you just took the boy and ran. It was a lucky guess that I found you here, we had a hard enough job of finding your mother's new address. Even with Garcia's skills your mother is protected by so many layers of security that it was almost impossible." He told her.

"Well isn't that telling you something? The people who come here don't want to be found – maybe I didn't want to be found. Besides, I'm glad my mother is so well protected, at least she's safe. Now I'll ask you again, what are you doing here Hotch?"

"I've come to bring you back to the team." He replied and she was silent for a moment.

"That... you can't. I can't come back now, they don't want me to come back and besides I told you, I don't want you to pull any strings at the Bureau for me – that isn't why I came back here, you know that." She told him.

"I'm not pulling strings Emily. My position as unit chief of the BAU only gives me so much sway, you know Strauss made sure of that, but I'm here on her orders. When she heard about your return she gave me orders to bring you back to the team. I'm instructed not to leave until you come with me – hence this..." He held up his go-bag to show her what he meant.

"_What?_ You think that you're staying _here_?" She asked with a scoff.

"I'll do what I have to do to make sure that you come home."

"What about Jack?" She asked thinking about his young son.

"Jack will be fine – I'm hoping you're going to come back with me later but if not then Jess is taking care of him until I'm back." He replied, blocking her excuse easily.

"What if you can't persuade me?" She asked.

"Emily you shouldn't need persuading, this is your team, your family – it's where you belong. You're not some fugitive anymore and you know that Matthew is safe so there is no reason for you to be hiding anymore." He told her frankly and she knew it was true but that didn't mean a faint, cold fear was not running through her veins at the thought of returning to her real life, her home, her job and her friends.

"I'm hardly hiding, you all know where I am. Besides the team don't need me anymore, they've moved on and I'm part of the past, you of all people should know that you can't go back." She told him, slumping onto one of the vacant stools across the island and eyeing the pancakes hungrily. The emotion of all this was too much, it made her weary and she had only just woken.

"How do you know Emily? How do you know that the team have moved on – that any of us have? You don't. You don't know how much we've missed you, how hard we've been fighting for you and it wasn't easy you know - JJ and I were the only two on the team to even have an inclination of your safety and it nearly tore us apart. You're not the only one who suffered at the hands of Doyle. I know that what you did, you did because you felt it was necessary and because you wanted to keep us safe and I appreciate that, I would have probably done the same thing – I guess you never know how you'll react in that situation until it happens. I'm not saying what you did was wrong, none of us are, it's just that we were the ones left behind with all that grief and having no knowledge of your safety or whereabouts was hard on us. This opportunity is rare Emily you _do_ get to go back because you _didn't_ die and you get a second chance with the people you love and who love you. I'm here now to make sure you don't do something you regret." He told her passionately and she realised that she had angered him by disregarding the team's opinions so carelessly.

"Do you think I don't know what I did? Do you think I don't hate myself for lying to you? Every day I was away I thought about you all and how much I missed you, probably more than I thought about anything else. So many times I wanted to call, but I had to listen to JJ – to cut contact until we knew more about Doyle's whereabouts and intentions. But I couldn't give up and I could never cut you out, I had to figure out a way to make this all go away and I knew the only way to do that was to take Doyle out. It was so hard Hotch, I needed help and I couldn't ask for it and I hated to think that if I'd called you would have come without a second thought and yet I was out there in hiding. I hate what I did, you have to know that and I would give anything to change it and to have told you the truth but I can't change what has already been. That's what I mean Hotch, you're offering me the chance to go back to a job I love doing with all of my friends and _I'm_ telling _you_, I don't deserve that chance or their forgiveness." She told him facing up to the fact that she had screwed this up – singlehandedly and with no one else to blame.

She could not even implicate Doyle in this because whilst he had been her reason for running, his death was also the reason why she could come home and she was doing everything she could to make excuses not to. She was terrified that if she allowed herself to think that things would be Ok, then the people she loved would not want her in their lives. She had hurt them and she was afraid to face them, however accepting they had seemed to be last night.

"I'm not saying that you have their forgiveness Emily but I am saying that you have the opportunity to earn it and I think that you should take it. You need the team and we need you – that's how we work, it's _why_ we work – because we're a family - and right now one of our family is out in the world alone and we're not working properly." He told her firmly, wanting to remind her that they were more than colleagues and even more than friends at the BAU.

"I did something terrible and I can't expect them to understand, whatever my intentions might have been. They don't want me in their lives, they don't need me anymore." She told him again, feeling herself repeat some of her arguments.

* * *

><p>"Would you listen to yourself? You're making all these assumptions but you're basing them all on absolutely no evidence at all. You think that you can tell what we're thinking and how we're feeling but the truth is you don't know us all that well anymore. What happened to you changed us all and of course it changed the team but if there's one thing I know, it's that this team is like none I've ever encountered before. As profilers and as people we have the ability to handle things that most people never have to deal with in a lifetime and what always remains is the deep level of emotion that runs between all of us. So don't make assumptions about what we'll think before you ask us, don't underestimate this team and don't think you know how we're going to react to having you back because you haven't even given us a chance to tell you how we feel." He told her with such a stern tone that she actually shifted back in her seat a little.<p>

"I just don't want them to think that I expect them to accept what I've done, I don't deserve to work alongside them anymore when I can't tell them the truth. I just don't know what I can do to make this right." She sighed, her voice no more than a frightened whisper.

"Don't you see Emily? There is only one thing you can do and that's to come home. You want their trust? You want their respect? Then prove it." He told her, watching as she refilled her coffee cup and offered him the pot, he took it and poured out some more of the hot liquid, waiting for her reaction.

"The team must hate me after I left like that last night... how do I explain that?" She asked and he wasn't sure if the question was aimed at him or whether it was more rhetorical.

"Listen Emily, they may be upset, they may not understand all this but the one thing I do know is that they don't hate you. They're your friends and they're not _capable_ of hating you. When I spoke to them before I left to come here, the only thing they were concerned about was that I bring you back with me. This isn't going to go away quickly, you must know that but the team deserve at least the chance to try to understand."

"How do I begin to explain this to them? I can't. The only thought on my mind was keeping you all safe and I can't justify it by any other means, I can't make it seem less terrible." She told him.

* * *

><p>"Maybe that isn't what this is about. Perhaps there are some things that can't be explained, some things which just happen. Maybe this is about just proving that you're not going to go anywhere again. Maybe this is about just being there, at home I mean and proving to them that you're serious about being back and being in their lives." He told her and she had to note how he detached himself from the 'they' he described. She wondered about the reason for that but she did not ask.<p>

She swallowed the realisation that he was right. She had made a big thing of the fact that she wasn't going anywhere to Reid and she knew that her quick escape last night would only cast aspersions on the truth behind what she had said. She was quiet as she remembered that look in his eyes and all the abandonment she had seen there and she felt sick. She was doing exactly what she had promised she wouldn't – she was leaving them again without even really facing up to them and why? She knew the answer to that without having to think about it – she was scared of their rejection – after all this time and after fighting for so long she was afraid that no one would want her, she supposed that was the real reason she had come here – her mother was the one person who despite their turbulent relationship, would always 'want her'.

"How are they? Really." She asked, needing to know the true effects of her absence of the team.

"They're stronger than you think Emily and I think that however hard this has been, the time ahead is going to be tougher. I think there is only one way that you can make this better for them and that is just to prove that their hesitations about your return are unfounded and that they don't have to be on edge about whether you're going to be there when they come into work every morning. I think that you've made this more difficult because you didn't come in to the office, even just to show your face. I know you were afraid and we were all a little bit unsure of how things would look when we got back but you should have trusted us to face that. Garcia hasn't even seen you yet, all she has to go on was what she could hear and I'll tell you something, what she heard was that you were ready to run again and she doesn't understand why. I think the same goes for Reid, you know how important his family is to him and you were, you _are_ a big part of that, he has a forgiving heart and I know we take it for granted that he understands things because he is a certifiable genius but he struggles with social cues and you've left a big hole there so it's going to take some time to heal. It'll be Ok, he'll be Ok but you have to give it some time. JJ of course understands what happened and she's just happy to see you back and I think Dave just wants to see the team back on track with _all_ its members, so remember you have friends with us and you always will." He assured her and he knew she would pick up on the things he didn't say, the person he did not mention.

She chewed her lip for a moment as she rolled her coffee cup between her hands and contemplated what he had said. If she had to remember her friends then what did that say about the enemies she had gained as a result of this.

"What about Derek? How is he?" She asked and she hated the ominous intake of breath he drew in.

"Derek is... Taking this a little harder than the others. I think... I _know_ he's happy you're home safely, of course he is, I just think he's struggling to wrap his head around what happened in the past... You know how he is, he's principled and opinionated and that's what you two worked so well together as partners because you were equals. I think, and I know that this is difficult to hear, that he feels betrayed that you didn't trust him with your secret and that you never asked for help. He understands that you did what you thought was best but for him right now there is nothing bigger than the betrayal of trust and in coming here instead of facing him, you're only proving him right. He took your 'death' probably the worst of all of us because he didn't talk about it and that means he still has all of that emotion stored up. I think right now he's angry, not at you per se but at the situation in general and since you've just come back you're probably going to be the target of that – it'll be tough but if you want it enough – being back and repairing those bonds - then you have to be strong and tough it out." Hotch admitted, it was honest – he had to be. In this mess dishonesty had been at the root of the problem and if he expected her to be up front with him then he needed to afford her the same courtesy.

"I want him to be mad at me, I want his rage – I think I need that more than acceptance. I need to be punished, I think it's the only way to help us all move on." She told him, she was up now and pacing wildly in front of the window.

"No one wants to punish you Emily, everyone just wants to put this behind us and get back to doing what we do – profiling." He told her calmly.

"You know, you haven't mentioned yourself yet. You've gone through everyone else but not yourself – how do you feel about this?" She asked.

"At first I didn't know the answer to that question myself but being here, seeing you like this - safe and well just... here... I realised I'm just really happy that you're home alive and safe, everything else seems irrelevant now." He told her and again she was unsure of his meaning.

She didn't know how to react, she wanted to press him to expand but she knew she did not want to open that particular can of worms. She wasn't sure how to proceed from here so instead she picked up a fork and took a bite from one of the pancakes to fill the time. It wasn't exactly warm now since their conversation had gone on for a while but it tasted good nonetheless.

* * *

><p>"So how's... Matthew doing?" He asked after a while.<p>

"He's Ok, he's still sleeping at the moment but he'll be alright, he's a brave boy and he's stronger than I gave him credit for. He misses his Mom and Dad but he's safe now and I think he could be happy here with me." She replied, her fingers skimming the top of her coffee cup.

"You know, I think you'll be great." He told her.

"At what?" She asked, looking up at him through her long eyelashes.

"Being his mother... you love him don't you?" He clarified, he had noticed that she had developed an increasing maternal instinct over her last few cases with the team and judging by her interactions with the boy last night, he knew she was the best person to take care of him, despite his early reservations about keeping Declan's involvement in Doyle's death a secret.

"I... I... yes... I love him, he's one of those children you just fall in love with the minute you meet them – like with Jack... I guess when I met him, I had a new reason to... stay with Doyle, a new reason to fight him and I couldn't leave the child there to that fate, that's why I faked his death back then and that's why I went back for him as soon as I knew where he was... I had to get him out last night when I realised that Doyle would stop at nothing to have him in his clutches... I had to protect him. Whether that makes me good enough to be his mother I don't know, you know he's been through enough and I couldn't put him through the possibility of losing another person ..." She finished with a sigh.

"He needs to be with someone who understands him, right now that's you and I know you'll take care of him. Besides, if you think we're letting you go anywhere again, you'd be crazy." Hotch reassured her.

"Thanks, I'm glad you've been so understanding about this." She replied with a grateful smile.

"You've done things for me in the past, you've seen things about me that most people would run away from and you were still there... I'd like to think that this is me returning the favour." He told her.

* * *

><p>They were silent again as she finished the now cold plate of pancakes, grateful for the food and for the comfort of the breakfast she had enjoyed as a child. It made her feel like although she could not go back, in some small way she could atone for things which had passed and rebuild the bridges which had been burned, even as far back as her childhood.<p>

"You know, I can't just come back Hotch, there are things that I have to sort out – an apartment for a start and a school for Matthew and I'll have to talk to Strauss..." She went on, listing the numerous obstacles she faced in the coming weeks.

"I understand that but we're here to help, Strauss has already expressed the wish for your return to the BAU, it seems she has a certain fondness for you – I think you remind her of herself when she was a field agent and as I said she told me I'm not to leave until you come back with me and as for an apartment I have Garcia looking into it as we speak, it seems your old apartment might still be available but we'll have to wait and see what she manages to achieve. In terms of finding a school there are plenty within range of the BAU." He told her, coming up with casual solutions to all her reservations.

"It's not just that, there's learning about Matthew and the kind of person he is now and making sure that I'm a good enough guardian for him and then there's the arrangements for cases..." She mumbled and it seemed like rejoining the BAU was a distant pipe dream for her.

"It's going to be Ok Emily, these things are just logistics and they'll work themselves out exactly they did for Jack and I." Hotch told her, smiling a little as Elizabeth re-entered the room.

"You should listen to Agent Hotchner Emily, things are going to be Ok you know and as for your cases away, Matthew is welcome here." She told her and Emily smiled weakly at her.

"So what do you think?" Hotch asked.

"I don't know... I have to think about it and I need to talk to Matthew but I would like to come and talk to everyone, try to make up for keeping them in the dark." She told him.

"I understand, I don't expect you to make any plans today, but I do expect you to come back to the team, this fact isn't up for negotiation and I don't think you really want it to be Emily." He told her when he thought he could see a protest forming on her lips.

"Ok..." She agreed reluctantly. She studied him for a while then, the man who had been her boss and she realised that this was probably taking its toll on him far more than she realised.

* * *

><p>"Uh Hotch you're not really going to stay right?" She asked.<p>

"If I go back and you're not with me then Strauss will probably have my head. Besides, I'm not here to watch your every move, I was hoping that if you weren't too opposed to the idea that we might talk a bit." He replied, giving her the option, knowing that he could hardly impose himself on Ambassador Prentiss and her daughter without their prior acceptance.

"Talk?" She asked a little nervously and she wasn't sure why.

"I think it would be good to get some of this out in the open and if Matthew needs a couple days then this is the perfect place for us to do that." He told her, still not being entirely clear.

"You want me to talk about Doyle?" She asked, mindful of her mother's presence.

"No I want you to talk about whatever you need to talk about, I want to make sure that you have whatever you need to ensure that when you come back to the team you can concentrate of being a profiler and moving forward with your life." He told her and she knew then he had no ulterior motives, that all those little signals he had seemed to be sending out were just being misread by her. He was the platonic friend, just a man who wanted to be her boss again, no more and no less.

"Ok." She agreed and just like that it was settled, he would stay with her until she felt ready to come home and despite the strangeness of the situation she couldn't deny that she felt slightly comforted by that thought.

* * *

><p>After they had driven out to the storage unit her mother had used to keep all her things in, Emily could safely say that she felt more like herself than she had in a long time. It had been nice to be able to dress in her own clothes and be surrounded by her own property and she had felt the emotion of that moment when she had been able to sign the papers for the release of some of the boxes with her own name overwhelm her.<p>

It had been a quiet afternoon and Matthew had stayed in his room for most of the day in somewhat withdrawn state. Emily had checked on him several times and he had assured her that he was Ok and for the time being, she knew she was probably better to leave him to come to terms with his loss safe in the knowledge that she was there should he need her. This seemed a far more favourable option to pushing him and making him clam up.

She had called Garcia and had a long conversation with her friend during which she made her apologies for not checking in with her last night and Penelope found it in herself to forgive her. She had also learnt that the magical technical analyst had been working tirelessly with the company who owned her building to secure her apartment again for her and she had managed to get them to re-lease the apartment to its original owner and she had been pleased to inform her, the papers were currently on their way to the ambassador's address by express mail and providing that they were returned promptly, the 'nice man' she had spoken with saw no reason that she shouldn't be back home by the end of the week. This date gave something for Emily to focus on, a deadline of sorts by which she expected to have fully re-inhabited her body and to have sorted things out for Matthew. Slowly but surely she had felt increasing relief at the knowledge that things were finally getting back to normal.

Whilst her mother had kept herself to herself in her office, she and Hotch had spent most of the afternoon talking as he had suggested they would. She had been surprised by how comfortable she felt talking with him now that she was fully dressed in her own clothes and sitting in her mother's living room and they were able to talk about anything and everything. In this way whilst she felt like no time had passed at all since she had last seen him, but she was also aware of the huge changes this simple act of talking together signified in their relationship. Before, she would have never have dreamed of going to him to discuss her personal problems despite the fact that she had been the one member of the team he had turned to in the weeks after Haley's death. Contrary to her original suppositions, he did not treat her like she was being interrogated or judged, he simply listened and offered her his thoughts where appropriate. They had still been talking long into the night when the house had once again grown quiet and it was only now as she lay awake at a little after four thirty in the morning that she felt those familiar stirrings of loneliness and un-quelled need rising within her.

* * *

><p>She supposed, as she threw off the comforter and swung her legs out of bed, that this was because she had seen a new side to him today, one that she hadn't known existed. He had been sensitive and had really cared about what she had to say, this was undoubtedly the cause of her restlessness tonight – she was seeing the man behind the machine. She would not admit that the way she was feeling had anything to do with the spark she had felt between them since she had returned the previous night. It was something stronger than the way she had felt about him before she had been forced to leave but she wasn't about to put a label on her feelings.<p>

She got out of bed going to the door and peering out down the dark hallway of the upstairs landing. She took a deep breath and held it, like the sound of her breathing would be enough to wake the others as she made her way to the bathroom at the end of the hall. She did not dare to let her eyes wander to the second door on the left, the room where he slept for fear that the feelings she was currently struggling with would overwhelm her and she would end up doing something stupid.

She carried on towards the bathroom with a calm resoluteness which she had finessed after years of practice and found that the sobering quiet of her own breathing was enough to steady the increased rate of her heart...

* * *

><p>She stood for a while just inside the door as she contemplated putting the light on. She could hardly see in the darkness of the bathroom in its current state and yet she knew that putting on the light would only draw attention to all those feelings she was trying to keep well hidden...<p>

After a time though she did flick the light switch on and she moved towards the mirror, studying her face. For a moment she did not recognise the woman who stared back at her – she looked strangely content and yet utterly unsettled the two emotions presenting themselves in equal measure and she couldn't understand how it was possible for them to be simultaneously experienced and yet the evidence was there on her face.

Her cheeks were a little flushed and her eyes heavy with something that was most certainly not tiredness and she refused to even consider the cause of this. Instead she took several deep breaths as her fingers travelled to the hem of her vest and she lifted it clean off, next came her sleep shorts and then without even realising it, she was stood in the mirror dressed only in her underwear staring at her body and the ugly scars that Doyle had left in the wake of his attack, so fixated and even mildly fascinated by them did she become that all thoughts of being discovered in this compromising position seemed to leave her head...

* * *

><p>He had been awake for hours and yet he felt no tiredness. Their struggle the previous night and the sheer emotion of her return should have been enough to cause him to fall into a heavy and dreamless slumber. But instead he laid atop the comforter of the bed he slept in staring at the swirling patterning on the ceiling and tried to decide whether the discomfort he felt right now was purely down to the thick, stifling air as the heat of the imminent summer storm began to set in here in Virginia or whether it was deeper set and more potently linked to the fact that she was laying in her room just across the hall.<p>

He could not deny as he tossed and turned in frustration, wishing for the safe lull of sleep to take him, that her return had stirred up feelings and questions which before her departure he had felt close to answering him. They had developed a close relationship in the months leading up to Doyle's attack and whilst she had only meant to offer him a means of release by allowing him to go to her apartment and pour his heart out, he had to admit that he had started to wish she would offer him release in other ways. Talking had hardly seemed like enough and yet the more they had talked, the more he came to know that attempting to suggest anything more would only be to his detriment. Talking to her had become something he depended upon to help him cope and he knew that realistically, she had no need for him – she did not lean on him as he did her and so he had stifled those feelings and avoided putting himself in situations where they became awakened but being here now meant that this was rather a lost cause.

In the stillness his thoughts raced and he wanted nothing more than to go to her room, if only to see if she too was lying awake feeling the same things he was but he could not. He didn't dare. He closed his eyes and forced himself to empty his mind but it was no use. The image of her, pulling that mask off and revealing her identity was fixed in his mind. He remembered the fluttering of his heartbeat as she had turned her head towards him and he had recognised her by silhouette alone – the long eyelashes, the shapely curve of her nose and the fullness of her mouth, a statement aspect of her face in the darkness. Such was the intimacy with which he recognised her countenance and that recognition had instantly set his mind reeling... it really was no use, sleep would not come to him tonight that much he knew.

He was just about to get up when he had heard the sound of a door opening and closing and the subsequent quiet footfalls of someone as they made their way past the door and for a moment he had hoped that she was coming to him, but then the footsteps had continued past the door and he felt a pang of disappointment. He listened in the silence which weighed heavily upon him for any inclination as to who it was, but he knew that logically it could be any one of the three other tenants of the house. He held his breath as he waited for the click of the bathroom door at the end of the hall but was mildly surprised when it never came.

After several more minutes of trying to pretend that he was not interested in the nocturnal wanderings of the people in this house, he pulled himself into a sitting position and swung his legs off the bed. The curiosity burning at his mind until the agent in him decided that there was nothing for it but to investigate...

* * *

><p>He closed his door quietly behind him and looked both ways in the hallway, not even sure what he was looking for... evidence of the wandering person being <em>her<em> he supposed, but all that faced him were a series of closed doors. He fixed his eyes on her door, wondering if he should go and check on her but then he became distracted by the sound of soft but persistent sniffling down the hall. He followed the sound finding, perhaps not surprisingly, that it lead him to the bathroom, the door of which was slightly ajar and the room was lit up. He reached out his fingers and pushed on the door a little, widening the gap and throwing her figure right into his eye line...

* * *

><p>He shouldn't have been watching. He knew this and yet he couldn't take his eyes off her. It was strange to him that this voyeuristic quality had emerged in him but something about the way she looked right now, even with her back to him mesmerised him and he found that he was unable to do anything besides watch.<p>

Her fingers skimmed the slightly rough edges of the scar upon her abdomen and she drew in a sharp, seething breath as the soft pads touched that tainted skin and she knew it was not from the pain but rather from the hatred of how that evil bastard had marred her body forever... She kept her head down for a while studying the puckered white-ish skin which surrounded the still pink scar and drowning in the feelings of self loathing which washed over her.

After a while she looked up, her eyes fixing upon the brand mark which was still visible despite the black bra she wore, on her left breast. Her fingers traced every cruel curve and she recalled with astounding clarity each sear of the iron as it connected with her skin... She squeezed her eyes shut, just as she had done then and when she opened them again, they fixed upon the figure of Aaron Hotchner...

* * *

><p>He knew she had seen him and yet he still could not tear his eyes away. For the longest time they stared at each other in the mirror until eventually she broke the intensity of the stare and looked away.<p>

"Come to see the freak show?" She asked sardonically as she quickly picked up the discarded vest and pulled it over her head, her shorts soon following suit. This was so embarrassing, this was the second time he had caught her in a state of undress today...

Before he had the chance to reply, she was pushing past him and trying to get out of there before either one of them could do or say something they regretted but he did not allow her to pass him. She felt his wide hands secure around her own slender arms as he guided her back into the bathroom. Without a second thought he shut and locked the door behind them and turned to face her.

She had a slightly feral look about her, the air of someone being held captive against her will and he felt certain that before long she would try to fight her way out but he had a piece to say and he wouldn't let her go before he had...

* * *

><p>"What are you doing?" She asked angrily, her head trained down towards her feet.<p>

"I thought we could at least do something about the huge elephant in the room." He murmured quietly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She replied offhandedly.

He ignored her antagonistic denial, having expected this reaction he guessed his head had planned for contingency far more than his aching heart had. "I saw no _freak show_ Emily." He told her instead.

"_You _should not have been looking." She hissed, her arms crossing in front of her self- consciously.

"I'm sorry, I just..." He didn't know how to finish, anything he said would come out wrong.

"You just what Hotch? Why would you come in here?" She asked a little more harshly than she intended to.

"I heard you crying, I wanted to check you were Ok." He told her, looking slightly like a fish out of water.

"I was_ not_ crying...I..." She flailed around for the words but they did not come, there were no words for the self loathing she had been putting herself through.

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><p>"It's normal you know." He told her quietly and for the first time she realised his own state of undress, he wore only a pair of faded grey sweatpants, his chest was completely bare meaning that when she glanced at him, she could not fail to see the thin, tight white lines of the scars Foyet's attack had left upon him. They had an almost silvery quality in the light and she found that she could not take her eyes off of them.<p>

"How is any of this normal Hotch?" She whispered and the question was genuine, she really needed the answer.

"It might not feel like it now, but it gets easier I promise. Soon you'll look at them and you won't feel the physical pain attached to them, you won't remember what it felt like to get them – you'll just know that you did. It probably doesn't seem possible right now but the mind has an incredible ability to heal itself Emily. The mental scars will disappear a long time before the physical scars and that might sound scary but trust me it's better that way." He told her, taking a tentative step towards her.

"But they're always going to be there..._ he's _always going to be there on the surface of my skin. He marked me and I can't do anything about them..." She murmured her voice heavy with unspoken sentiments.

"You're right. They will always be there but _he _doesn't have to be. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Your mind will heal itself and you'll forget him, you'll close your eyes and you won't see his face anymore. It'll get better I promise." He tried to assure her.

She said nothing. There seemed to be nothing she could say to that. She hadn't meant that the physical presence of her scars would be there as a reminder only to her, although she knew they would be, but she had meant that those scars would be an obstacle to any physical intimacy with a prospective partner, not least because she was so caught up in the ways she had been changed by Doyle's attack.

"Emily listen to me. Physical scars mean nothing more than that you survived, they're not symbolic in any other way and you know what? You shouldn't be afraid to show them or to look at them because they don't matter or at least they shouldn't, if the person you're with really loves you then he should love all the things about you, including the ways in which your body has been changed by this." He told her sincerely and in some ways he found that the things he said applied to himself too.

She gasped a little as she stared at him. She had overlooked the fact that he was a profiler and therefore could see the truth in her eyes.

"That's what this is about isn't it? Becoming physically intimate with someone?" He asked, his eyes barely meeting hers.

She could only nod, swallowing hard as he talked to her like this, seeing into her soul. "Mm hmm." She mumbled after a moment, her voice coarse although she had muttered no articulate words.

"Why tonight?" He asked after a beat.

She licked her lips, trying to find her voice before she replied. "I... I guess... it's being back home and thinking about how to do things differently this time, how to make a life for Matthew and I how to find happiness... if I even deserve happiness with... with a man." She told him and she had never been more embarrassed.

"Emily of course you deserve happiness, you are not the one in the wrong here. None of this is your fault, no one blames you for anything that happened. You deserve the opportunity to reclaim your life, to come back to... the people who love you." The last part of his sentence was strained, like he hadn't meant to say it and she couldn't help but think of possible alternatives...

"I realised over the two years that I was away that I don't want to be alone anymore – I want people in my life, I want a person to love who'll love me too but I can't help thinking that no one will want me now... that no one could and I wouldn't blame them. I just don't know if I can hope to start a relationship with someone who doesn't understand, I don't know if I could be with a person who didn't get that there are some things that I don't want to talk about, some things that I _can't_ talk about..." She told him, wondering quite how he had got her to open up the vault which contained her feelings for a second time that night...

* * *

><p>He was silent for a moment as he watched her and she couldn't look away from him despite the intense discomfort she felt at having him stare at her so intensely. He shifted nervously from foot to foot taking a single step closer to her and reaching out his hand, closing it around her folded forearm.<p>

"Then don't." He whispered and she was completely dumbfounded. Of all the things that she might have expected him to say, this certainly hadn't been one of them. What did that even mean anyway? She had told him that she wanted a life and a relationship which made her happy and a few minutes ago he had been encouraging her to take those things and now this? She was so confused.

"Don't what?" She asked and her tone reflected the confusion she felt.

"Don't be with just any guy, don't choose to spend your life with someone who could never understand how it feels to go through something like this." He told her and the pain in his voice almost killed her.

"What are you saying?" She asked though she didn't need to. They had come full circle into a moment where she had changed so very much, they had returned to a place in their life which remained the one constant and unchanging thing they both shared – their inability to admit that there was more between them than professionalism and camaraderie, more even than the relationship of confidants...

He was silent for a moment before he answered and it almost felt like he was trying to decide the best way to proceed in this situation, weighing up the options and making a rational decision in true Aaron Hotchner style.

"Emily we both know that things were changing between us before you left. Even you with your compartmentalisation and all your boxes have to admit that what was happening between us couldn't be put in one box or the other..." He told her, acutely aware that if she chose to deny it now then it was his heart on the line.

She was shocked by his reply although she couldn't say she had never suspected the changes, she too had felt them and she had thought that she experienced them alone, but what he had just told her blew that out of the water. She just couldn't decide what that meant for them now. After everything that had happened what did he expect?

"Hotch... I... don't know what you're talking about. We were colleagues, friends at best and our relationship was about nothing more than me listening and you talking – trying to come to terms with losing Haley and dealing with being a full time dad again. That's all. There was nothing else." She told him bluntly, though she couldn't meet his eye.

He looked at her with hurt eyes, observing the way she kept her own eyes trained on the ground as she tried to edge her way around him to get to the door.

"Look at me and tell me that. Look me right in the eye and tell me there was never anything between us." He instructed and when she wouldn't, he used his finger to lift her chin towards him.

"Tell me you don't feel the same way." He told her, and there was a challenge there – it was undeniable.

"There was never anything_ to_ feel, we both knew what we were doing when we started meeting outside of work and we both understood that there was never any possibility of there being more between us. Romantic attachments just aren't possible for us. For me it was about supporting you, there was never anything else." She repeated again, making a point to include the rules against fraternisation between agents.

"You felt nothing but you admit a change?" He asked a little hopefully she thought.

"I...I think that we were both lonely and feeding off that. I admit that there were probably times when we both considered the possibility of our existing relationship becoming something different, maybe even something which satiated other _needs_ but in the end we are in a professional relationship first and foremost – you're the unit chief and I'm your subordinate and that has to come first. There can never be anything more." She told him firmly moving away from him, but again he stopped her.

"You're saying that you wanted a real relationship too, that you saw a physical element developing?" He asked his heart pounding.

"No. I'm saying that it doesn't matter about our personal feelings, it's of no consequence whether we wanted it or not because it could never have happened and that's all that matters." She told him, her voice rising an octave to cement the fact that she was done talking about this now.

He let her go reluctantly and she twisted the lock of the bathroom quickly and pulled the door open.

"Before you go, tell me one thing – if things had been different, if we weren't bound by Bureau rules could you see a future for us?" He asked somewhat desperately.

She turned back towards him, her eyes filled with tears as she studied the mix of fatigue, need and desire as they combined to create his current expression. This man wanted to be with her, he probably _needed_ to be with her and yet she was still about to stomp on that possibility.

"I can't do this right now Hotch, I've only just got back and you're here trying to make me commit to something that is just impossible. I feel... nothing but gratitude and respect for you, that's all there can ever been and I appreciate you giving me back my spot on the team but if you can't accept that that's all we have between us then I can't come back." She told him and they both knew it was an ultimatum – continue on with foolish dreaming or face reality and move on.

"I feel stupid, I'm sorry." He murmured.

"Don't be sorry, don't ever be sorry." She told him, her tone forgiving, wanting to reach out and touch him but refraining with some measurable reluctance.

"Emily..." He started but there seemed to be nothing to say.

"We can't." She told him reaching out and squeezing his hand with her own tentatively, she knew it was a risk but still she had to do something right now, to demonstrate the new understanding they had reached. The contact lasted only a second and then she was gone.

* * *

><p>He stood in the now empty bathroom for what felt like forever after she had gone, trying to contemplate and make sense of everything she had told him. Whilst she had not denied that she had experienced a change in the way she felt for him in the months leading up to her departure, neither had she confirmed the nature of her emotional connection to him. It was just that in true Emily Prentiss fashion, she had compartmentalised their relationship far better than he ever could. She had obviously realised early on in their interactions outside of work that there was the potential for more between them and had therefore shut down any possibility of the development of said feelings. She had trained her mind to believe that she felt nothing and there wasn't a thing he could do to change her mind, that much he knew – once she had her mind set on something there was no changing it, he was just lucky she was still considering a return to the team at the beginning of the new week.<p>

After what he wagered to be an acceptable amount of time, he ventured out into the hallway, making his way back to the room he was staying in. On his way, he couldn't help but stop outside of her room.

From within he could hear her muffled sobs and he knew then that Emily Prentiss was still wearing a mask in front of him and that his revelations had affected her more than she had lead him to believe. He did not attempt to enter but rather stood with his hand pressed against the door as he listened in the stillness.

She cried for what seemed to be hours and he wished he could console her but he knew that right now more harm would come of that than good. After the longest she grew quiet and her sobs were replaced with soft sighs, as he listened fixed to the spot by some force or other - something far more powerful than gravity or magnetism - he noticed that the sighs turned to gasps and they grew marginally in volume with each second that passed. As he backed off and headed for his own room, there could be no doubt about what she had been doing. In her refusal to give in, she had been denying herself the fulfilment of her desires and he realised that in her loneliness she had taken desperate measures to achieve satisfaction...

* * *

><p>As he shut the door behind himself, he realised that being here was not good for either of them, it was too confusing and he couldn't afford for there to be any unwelcome questions upon their return to the BAU come Monday. In the end, the truth was plain. Everything had changed for them, her absence had changed her and it had changed him, probably irreversibly, but as he laid his head against the pillow and tried hopelessly to avoid thinking of her, he realised that he still felt the same way about her, he still wanted her, he still needed her and he still felt the stirrings of that long dead and ancient feeling inside of himself – it was something resembling the beginnings of love. This he knew and in that moment he realised that whilst outwardly he may have changed, all alone with his thoughts when there was nothing but his own internal monologues for company, in the deepest recesses of his mind nothing had changed at all. As he rolled onto his side and tried to sleep, he made a decision. Tomorrow he would leave. He would not ask or expect her to come with him. That was best for everybody...<p>

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><p><strong>Ok, so there it is, perhaps the longest chapter in the history of the world, sorry about that, just little old me getting carried away again, I applaud you if you're still awake at the end of this. <strong>

**As I said it goes a little out of character I know but this reality lives in my head and it's allowed to be! I hope you enjoyed this and all the little H/P hints... **

**More on that next chapter when I think we'll have some Declan/ Emily to explore some issues there and some M ratedness... Stay with me, it is on its way I promise. **

**Please feel free to let me know what you thought. **

**Hope I caught all the edits, I apologise if not. **

**Thanks for reading, **

**Love always **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	5. In the Still of the Night

**Hello lovely people, **

**Thank you so much for the reviews on the previous chapter of this, I'm so glad that you're enjoying it; your support really does mean the world to me. **

**I think this chapter is going to satiate some of those unattended to needs both for the characters and for some of you – you know who you are!**

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. Also with reference to the chapter title, I borrowed it from the song of the same name as recorded by The Five Satins because as we all know by now I'm a Dirty Dancing freak and felt that this song title would work well for what I've got planned for this chapter. No lyrics reproduced, just the song title so credit where it's due... **

**Guess it's time to find out if Aaron left huh? **

**For Nik... Why? Do I need a reason to reward amazing friendship and writing. Hope it brings you some sunshine.**

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><p><em>~"The opposite of loneliness, it's not togetherness. It is intimacy."~ Richard Bach. <em>

_Getting up this morning had literally been the hardest thing that Emily Prentiss had ever had to do. Harder than becoming Strauss' little look out girl, harder than any case she had ever been on, harder than going undercover as Lauren Reynolds and being with Doyle, harder than facing her nemesis and even harder than coming back. The effort it had taken to get out of bed, take a shower, dress and make her way downstairs had been the single hardest thing she'd ever done and why? Not because she was embarrassed by his outpouring of emotion in the bathroom last night but because she'd been embarrassed that he'd been right – there was something between them and perhaps there always had been. This realisation had caused her to run, something for which she could now say she had acquired particular finesse. It had also caused her to deny those feelings, to refuse to admit that there was even a tiny part of her which reciprocated his feelings, whether or not she realised that they existed. This denial had caused her to go to bed alone and lonely for the umpteenth time in her life and perhaps most embarrassingly of all, her loneliness had driven her to find self-satisfaction. _

_She had felt a deep discomfort as she dressed and tried not to recall the painful and usually prohibited pleasure which had been gained from her activities last night. She had felt a blush creeping across her already burning skin as halfway down the stairs she had come to the realisation that she had pleasured herself in her mother's house and with the object of her desire not more than twenty feet away down the hall. _

_As she had reached the bottom of the staircase, she had taken a moment to glance into the mirror which hung on the opposite wall, taking the opportunity to ensure that her emotions were in check, her mask of serene indifference in place and her incredible ability to compartmentalise awkward or unthinkable aspects of her life fully functioning. As she had pushed a stray strand of her long brunette hair behind her ear and wiped at the small amount of excess lip stain from the secret crease of her mouth, she had realised that this would probably be the way it was between them now – hidden desires and fake, plastered on smiles. That had saddened her and she had known that she had no one but herself to blame, Hotch had been the epitome of honesty and she had been the epitome of a liar and she had known then that her pact of honesty would always only be skin deep, she hadn't really meant it, whatever she might have said. _

_She had steeled herself as she had moved towards the kitchen, her breath held without her even realising it as she anticipated his presence in the room. She had heard him moving around in his room at the crack of dawn so she knew she should not be surprised to find him there. She had pushed the door and entered gingerly, afraid to move in a house which was more her own than it was his and yet still feeling like that girl who woke up in a stranger's house after a night of wild and passionate sex she knew they would never have..._

* * *

><p><em>He had been there. His shoulders set, his posture almost impossibly straight – as if some invisible puppet master pulled an equally invisible string skyward. He had been facing away from her, his eyes fixed forward on the view from the bay window as if nothing could have been of greater interest to him than slightly bowing willow tree and the gravelled entrance and driveway of her mother's house. <em>

_He had not even seemed to notice her presence or if he did, he had been doing an exemplary job of pretending otherwise. She could not say that she blamed him – things between them had been left a little unresolved and the awkwardness that would soon settle where some kind of grand gesture should have been, hung heavily in the air. _

_She had made no motion to alert him to her presence but instead had surveyed the scene around her. The sun was glimmering onto the stainless steel appliances and imported marble worktops in a forgiving lapse in the threats of a storm – perhaps they had escaped it's potent rage, the air was not so warm, but she found not to her surprise, that it was no less stifling. She had wished there was something she could say to alleviate the pressure, to allow them both to breathe, but short of admitting that she too wished they could act on their apparently mutual desire to enter into a relationship, she could think of nothing. _

_In the slight reflection that was produced in the marble, she had been able to watch him raise the black earthenware mug he had taken from the cabinet and take a sip of what she could only assume would be black coffee without sugar. After a while he had seemed to become self conscious of her observations and had therefore, lowered his eyes, inadvertently catching hers in the surface. She had smiled weakly and he had looked away. _

"_I'm sorry; I didn't mean to wake you." He had told her, his voice low. _

"_You didn't." She had replied, her voice equally quiet. She had taken a step towards him, her hand reaching out and resting on his shoulder. _

_The contact had burned her skin and she felt a thrill course through her which had told her that the temporary satisfaction she had achieved last night had been just that – temporary._

_Her hand had barely settled into a resting position before he had shrugged her off and whilst she had felt disappointed, she could not say that she hadn't been expecting it. _

"_Hotch I..." She had started to say but she could think of no words, instead he spoke for her. _

"_It's forgotten." He had told her coldly. _

"_I'm sorry." She had whispered, knowing that it was the only thing she could have said to make this even the slightest bit better. _

"_You have nothing to apologise for. It's me who's sorry, I should have never..." He had stopped midway through his sentence, apparently abandoning that train of thought. _

"_You were right, I was wrong to impose myself on you like this. I don't know what came over me. I'm your boss, just your boss as you said and bosses don't do what I did. I should never have come here." He had told her and it had sounded like he was saying the words without truly meaning them. _

"_So what happens now?" She had asked, not sure if she meant personally, professionally or both. _

"_I was hoping that this conversation wouldn't have to happen. I had planned on being gone before you woke but it looks like I judged my timing poorly." He told her, tipping his head slightly to draw her attention to the stool next to him. _

_It was only then that she had noticed his go bag sitting on the stool, packed and ready. His suit jacket had been draped across it and she had known then what he had intended doing. _

"_You're leaving?" She had asked, somewhat helplessly. _

_He had nodded curtly before replying, apparently trying to muster the courage to speak. "I think it'd be best, if we wish to continue working together I think I need to take myself out of this situation. Strauss won't be happy that you won't be with me in person when I check in at work but I think the assurance that you're moving back to your apartment tomorrow and intend to report for duty on Monday should be enough." He had told her, getting down from the stool and rinsing his mug in the sink before turning towards her, his eyes cold and unreadable. _

_Emily had been shocked. Of course, she had known that this was the sensible course of action but something in her had wanted to ignore the option which made the most sense, she simply didn't want to be in her mother's house alone. At least that was what she had told herself. She still refused to admit that the real reason she had felt so uncomfortable at that moment was because she didn't want to be here without him. _

"_I... I don't want you to leave." She had ventured after several moments' contemplative silence. _

"_You don't?" He had sounded surprised; she supposed he had the right to be. "Then what do you want Emily?" He had asked and to say she had been surprised became an understatement – he had never asked her such a personal question. _

"_I was just getting used to having you here, it was good talking to you yesterday and feeling like I was getting just a little bit of myself back, like I was earning some of your respect back." She had told him, her voice high and desperate. _

"_That didn't answer the question Emily." He had told her, picking up his go bag and going to move past her. _

"_I don't know. That's the truth. I have no idea and I hate that feeling. All I'm sure of is that I don't want to be here alone." She had replied, trying desperately to make him stay. _

"_But you're not here alone; you have Matthew and your mother..." He had told her. _

"_I know that but I... I need you here too, you're the only person in all of this who reminds me of the life I used to have and I need to know that you're going to be there..." She had told him. _

"_What you're saying is you want me to do for you what you did for me after Haley?" He had asked, hoping for clarification. "You need me in that way but no other?" He had pressed. _

"_Yes." She had breathed out a relieved sigh. _

"_Are you telling me the truth? He had asked. _

"_I...I... What? Of course I am." She had told him, licking her lips nervously as she remembered the way the ache in her body had caused her to resort to desperate measures to achieve some release. _

"_You can't even look me in the eye; you don't even know what's true anymore do you?" He had asked and she had wanted nothing more than for the Earth to swallow her up. _

"_Did... Did you..." She had stammered. _

"_Yes." He had replied. _

_They had stared at each other meaningfully for a few seconds before a raging blush had coloured her skin and she had moved away staring out of the window. _

"_Don't go." She had whispered after a while. _

"_This isn't healthy Emily." He had replied, not attempting to move closer to her. _

"_Don't leave me alone here with this." She had told him. _

_He had said nothing, there hadn't seemed to be anything he could say but she had heard his bag hit the stool again and her heart had raced. _

"_Just give me some time to figure this out, please... give me time." She had told him and as she lifted her eyes to the window, meeting his she had noticed his small nod and she had known that however confused she was, he was allowing her the time she needed..._

* * *

><p>The day had been awkward to say the least. Whilst he had agreed to stay and she was pleased about that, there had been a new kind of tension between them which had not existed yesterday and she knew that this had everything to do with the hope she had instilled in him that her feelings could change. They had been doing a kind of merry dance around each other all day, she had stuck to spending time with Matthew who had come down today and had been working busily with her mother to arrange the transfer of her furniture and remaining possessions from the storage unit back into to her apartment and Hotch had been conferencing with JJ about prospective cases for much of the afternoon.<p>

A strange kind of peace had befallen the house, connecting and drawing together four souls who separately were not complete but who in this situation, clinging to their unusual kind of normality, seemed to find their missing pieces.

As she made her way to her room, she felt calmer and happier than she had imagined she would after the start to the day. It had been nice spending time with Matthew, talking about the things that interested him as a boy – the subjects he liked at school, the music he listened to, the girl he had liked in his class – everything ordinary and teenage and she was pleased to see that for the first time since she had arrived back in his life two nights ago, the haunted look in his eyes seemed to be fading and its place the faintest glimmer of happiness seemed to sparkle.

It had also been nice to spend the evening talking with Hotch in a professional capacity, listening to his thoughts on each of the three cases they had to choose from, hearing him talk about each of the victimologies and even watching his inner turmoil concerning what would happen to the other two sets of victims, who would catch the UNSUB and how he could possibly split himself three ways, had been endearing and to her the first real sign that she had come home. She had reminded him that whilst they were the 'A' team, there were other teams at the BAU and that of course, the other victims would be helped and the UNSUB caught by one of them and she sensed that hearing her tell him this solved a lot of unspoken issues he seemed to be harbouring. Sometimes, she knew he became lost in his work so much so that he forgot that whilst they were agents, they were indeed human and therefore could not logically be expected to help everybody. At times it took the simple reminder that they were doing some good – no matter how small their impact on the growing evil in this world seemed to be.

He had listened attentively as she offered her own opinions on each of the cases, so rare an opportunity was it that she had ever been involved in the choosing of which cases they took that her reasoning and logic seemed to provide him with the fresh perspective he needed. For her, talking about cases and describing how the team's group and individual expertise could be best employed upon each of them, had been wonderful. She felt like she was stretching a long forgotten muscle, like her body, her mind and her very soul were reawakening after a seemingly indefinitely slumber. She had had her doubts about returning but she knew that realistically there was not even the tiniest sliver of doubt that this was where she belonged, in this profession with these people.

At around six they had come to the conclusion that their skills as a team would be best employed on a case in Iowa involving what had initially appeared to be a family annihilator, but which the local PD had found, was a whole lot more complicated. Hotch had called in to JJ and asked her to begin briefing the team, ensuring that Garcia had prepared all relevant documentation and had uploaded it to their PDAs before they went wheels up first thing Monday. He had expressed concerns about the delay in their flying out, but had received personal instructions from Strauss that the rehabilitation of the team should be his primary focus. She could see that the instruction to stay grounded until such time that it became possible for the team to reunite fully distressed him, he usually prided himself on fast response times and thorough and diligent turnarounds and she had suggested that they could leave tonight, she was ready if he needed her to be, but he had brushed off her suggestion in favour of honouring Strauss' wishes.

Something inside of him seemed to recognise that whatever her outward willingness to rejoin the team now that she had had a taste of what it was like might say, she was still weary and needed that extra day to recover and to sort things out properly for Matthew. He had needed the same adjustment period after Haley had died and he could understand that. So whatever his feelings about delaying until Monday, he kept tight lipped and fixed a smile on his face, which assuming she was half the profiler he knew she was, she could see right through.

* * *

><p>She stood in the mirror now studying her reflection before she thought about getting ready for bed. It was late, approaching midnight and yet as she stared at herself, she realised that she was more awake than perhaps she had been upon waking this morning. Her eyes glittered with renewed faith in her return and her cheeks were flushed with possibility as she realised her excitement at returning to her life to the fullest extent but, as she began to unbutton the white shirt she wore, she realised she was awake in more ways – dangerous ways.<p>

After this morning and the knowledge that he had heard her last night, she knew she was foolish to entertain the notion of a change in her feelings for him immediately before she was about to settle down for the night. The prospect of the long stretch of hours filled only with restless desire was not appealing to her and yet, she could not rid herself of the thought of his smile when she had reassured him earlier, or the thought of his desperation and honesty last night...

She didn't know what to do with everything she was feeling. Last night she had been so adamant that nothing could happen between them, and she had had very good and very valid reasons for this and they still stood up today – perhaps even more so given that they had been talking about work all day and given the awkwardness of this morning. But in many ways, it had been this morning which had taught her that her feelings were changing, or rather that they existed – much to her own protestation.

In those moments when his departure had been imminent, she had realised that the strength of her feelings was far more deeply rooted than she would have ever realistically admitted – She hated to think that he was leaving, the prospect of his not being there seeming far terrifying than any she had faced up to now. There was something so steadying, so calming about his presence and the way he kept reminding her of her life before Doyle had returned that comforted her and in her loneliness, she could not deny that contrary to what she had told him this morning, she did need him in other very urgent ways...

She was just contemplating the possibility of entering into a new discussion about the potential for a relationship of some kind between them when a sound halted all thoughts, bringing her crashing back down to Earth and causing her to button her shirt back up and race from her room at record speed.

* * *

><p>"<em>Noooooooo!" He screamed, feeling the force of his father's evil bearing down upon him. He was terrified. He had never been more so in the whole of his life. The people who he would always consider to be his parents were dead. Their contorted and poisonously tortured bodies lay in the centre of the room, motionless and still – undoubtedly gone and there was nothing he could do to save them. <em>

_He screamed again as his eyes fell onto the form of his mother, her eyes frozen open and her rigoured arm outstretched as if she was reaching for him, desperate to get to him before his true father had. Somewhere close behind him, there was a low rumble of laughter and he refused to look towards it, knowing without having to turn his head who was in the room with him. _

_He knelt on the ground next to his parents and cried for the loss he had sustained - there was nothing he could do for them, this was all his fault. If he had never been born then this wouldn't have happened, his mother and father would still be alive, living their lives with an ordinary child who did have his baggage. _

_He wiped at his tears, knowing that weakness was the worst thing he could show right now. He sucked up the last dredges of his emotion, murderous thoughts rising in him and feeding on the anger he felt until he wished he could crush his father's skull and watch the life drain from his body..._

_After a while, he felt his father's presence behind he and he stood, rising to his full height so as not to show the fear which quaked through his body. A heavy hand clamped around his shoulder and he flinched a little but he was too afraid to step outside of his grasp. _

"_Come son, I have a gift for you." His father's low Irish rumble told him and without even realising it he was being directed towards the stairs and into his room. _

_Lauren Reynolds, Emily Prentiss as he somehow knew her true identity to be, lay motionless on the floor in the centre of his room her hands bound and her face black and blue. He felt sick, he wanted to run and yet the iron grip of his father made all possibility of escape impractical and impossible. He could only stand there and watch the scene in front of him unfold. _

"_You know who this is don't you son? You remember her don't you?" His father asked. He could only nod, terrified of what was going to happen to her... _

"_But you don't know what she is do you? You don't know that she's an agent, a spy and she betrayed me. She's the reason why we were kept apart and now she has to pay. You agree with me don't you?" He asked. _

_Declan licked his lips, finding his mouth completely dry. He didn't agree, he couldn't and yet as his father's grip on his shoulder increased, he had to nod. _

"_You're angry aren't you son?"_

_He nodded more vigorously this time – he was angry, just not at the woman on the floor. He was angry with his father for killing the parents he had loved more than anything. _

"_You want revenge?" He asked, pushing his buttons. _

"_Yes." The first word he had spoken to his father since he had discovered his parents were dead. _

"_Then take it." Ian told his son, placing the forty calibre into his hand. _

_For a moment, Declan was frozen. He had never held a gun before, never even seen one in real life and here he was stood in his bedroom holding one loaded and ready to kill. _

_His hand shook and Ian reached out to steady him, positioning the gun correctly and pointing it at Emily. _

"_Shoot her. Make her pay." He instructed coldly and Declan recoiled, wanting nothing more than to drop the gun but finding himself strangely incapable of doing so. It was like the weapon was a part of him, one of his limbs, it pulsed in his hand like it had a heartbeat, a mind and it wanted to kill Emily – he could feel it. It spoke to him..._

"_Go on Declan... Be a man." Ian encouraged watching as his son squeezed his eyes tight shut... _

"_You were born to do this..." _

"_You're a warrior." _

"_Show me who you are." He goaded and Declan knew then exactly what he wanted to do, what it had always been his destiny to do. _

_He was Declan Doyle and he wanted to kill Emily Prentiss for stopping him from becoming the man he had always been destined to be... _

_Without a second thought he had lined up the gun and pulled the trigger. She didn't even flinch, made no single move as the bullet entered her skull and killed her... He was breathing heavily as the exhilaration of the kill invaded every fibre of his being..._

* * *

><p>"No! Emily! No... Oh God... Emily." He was screaming and as she raced to his side she was helpless to control the night terror which had gripped him.<p>

She sank to her knees beside him as he continued to scream her name and she didn't know how to reach him. His arms flailed helplessly as he reached for something which seemed unattainable and though his eyes were closed, tears streamed from them as the horror set in.

"Matthew... Matthew...It's Ok... It's Ok... Wake up; I'm right here, I'm right by your side." She soothed taking his shoulders and trying to shake him out of his nightmare. She knew this went against advice, the shock could do terrible things to a person but she didn't know what else to do.

He did not respond and continued screaming her name. She had to stop this; she had to make this go away...

After a while she came to the only conclusion that seemed logical, he was evidently deeply involved in his nightmare as Declan, perhaps reliving something that he had seen two nights ago and therefore he would be unlikely to respond to her calling him Matthew – there was only one thing she could do – she had to drop the second identity and pull Declan out of this...

"Declan... Declan come on, wake up, wake up – you're safe it's alright, he can't hurt you now, he isn't here... Declan..." She tried desperately and after several more attempts, his eyes flew open...

He was sobbing uncontrollably and still flailing but she caught his arms and locked her eyes onto his.

"It's alright, it's alright... I'm here, you're safe." She soothed reaching out and smoothing his hair affectionately.

His eyes were so frightened, like he didn't want to believe that she was telling the truth, like he couldn't. After a while he reached out his hand and touched her cheek.

"You're... you're alive?" He asked, licking his lips, his voice raspy with terror.

"I'm here, I'm Ok, _you're_ Ok – it was just a dream, just a bad dream." She promised and at her words he flung his arms around her and pulled her close.

She held him tight, sensing that he needed their closeness as she reached over to the nightstand and switched on the lamp. She hoped the light would settle his nerves, she hoped he would see now that the demons in his dreams weren't really there.

"I thought... You... You were dead. In my dream you were dead." He told her, his head resting on her shoulder as she stroked his hair.

"But I'm not, I'm Ok – you can see that. He didn't do it Declan." She soothed.

"No... You're right.._.he_ didn't..." Declan told her...

"That's right." She replied with a small smile.

"He didn't do it, in my dream_ I_ did it... _I_ killed you." He told her dismissing her slight relief.

"It was just a dream Declan, that's all it was. It doesn't mean anything." She told him pulling back and taking his hand.

"What if... What if it does? In the dream he was there, telling me things, making me believe him, he put a gun in my hand and at first I didn't want to use it... But then it seemed to... it seemed to be talking to me and I really wanted to hurt you, to kill you – it felt... good when I did... What if he's right? What if I was born to be like him? I already proved I _can_ be like him, look at what I did in real life – that wasn't a dream was it Emily?" He asked, staring into her deeply concerned eyes.

"No. It wasn't a dream. But that doesn't mean you're like him and one dream doesn't mean you are either. You're bound to be frightened and you're going to think about the things he said, that's normal but that doesn't mean that you're going to act on what he told you – that doesn't make what you did the same as the things that he's done. I told you before – I know you're not like him and I know you never will be because you have something inside of you that your father never did – you know how to love, you're a good person Declan and what you did, you did because you wanted to protect me – exactly the same thing that I would have done if it had been the other way around. You don't have to worry about becoming him because you are nothing alike. Trust me." She replied, hoping she could get him to believe that what she was saying was true.

"But I have these feelings inside of me, they're real and they're so strong, I feel like they're all I can think about..." She told him.

"They might be strong, but you're stronger Declan – you've proven that. You're still here, still going through the motions of a life and you're trying to move on, you're so brave and I'm so proud of you." She told him, shifting a little on the bed as he curled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them.

"I don't think I can do it Emily. I've been trying to forget, I've been trying to be Matthew but I can't. I can't be him and have Declan in my head. If my parents had been here then maybe I could have, maybe my life would have been more normal but they're not and it isn't." He replied, swallowing hard as the realisation that his life had changed so dramatically finally hit him and she choked up at his astounding maturity.

"You don't have to worry about anything, I promise. I don't want you to think about having to be two people, I just want you to be happy." She told him.

"I know that you're trying to help me, I know that you think being Matthew would be easier and I have been trying, but I just feel confused. I don't know what I'm supposed to think, I don't know whether I can talk to you about what happened and about my parents or if it'll make you mad, I know you want me to pretend but it's hard... I just wish I had never been born." He told her dejectedly, it was the only thing that made sense.

"I don't want to hear you say that, I don't want you ever to think that this was your fault, this is Ian Doyle's fault and this has nothing to do with you. You're a victim in this fight as much as your parents were and I'm sorry that you ever got caught up in this but I'm not sorry that you were born, you're special Declan and you deserve freedom and normality more than anyone I know, that's all I was trying to do but I understand that this is hard for you – If you're happy to be Declan then that's who'll you'll be Ok?" She asked gripping his shoulders and fixing her eyes on him.

"Ok..." He replied tentatively.

"What is it Declan?" She asked seeing the question in his eyes.

"It's... It's Ok if I talk about this with you right?" He asked, picking at an invisible thread on the edge of the comforter.

"Hey..." She replied placing her finger under his chin and drawing him level with her own eyes. "Look at me... You can talk to me about anything, everything you need to – you don't have to be afraid." She smiled and he returned it after several tense seconds.

"I miss them Emily." He told her.

"I know honey, I do. But it gets easier, I promise it does." She tried to reassure him.

"How? I miss them all day every day and I worry that I'll start to forget them." He told her.

"That could never happen - you wouldn't let yourself forget them, but you will start to feel better, it won't hurt so much. You just have to remember that you're not alone... I know it might not be any sort of consolation but I'll be with you every step of the way, I know you don't know me all that well but I care about you Declan..." She murmured.

"I know Emily. I care about you too." He told her, pulling her close again.

"You're going to be Ok Declan." She promised.

"As long as you're with me." He told her and suddenly his voice was heavy with sleep.

"Hey, let's get you comfortable Ok?" She replied, going to the drawer and taking out a clean t-shirt which after shrugging out of his sweat dampened one, he pulled on.

He settled back against the pillows and she pulled the comforter up around his shoulders. He smiled gratefully and as she was about to lean in to place a kiss to his forehead, he grabbed her hand, clutching it tightly.

* * *

><p>"Stay with me a while?" He begged.<p>

"Of course." She told him sitting back on the edge of the bed.

"You know when I had nightmares before, Dad used to read me passages from _Moby Dick _to help me calm down – It's my favourite." He breathed.

"This happened a lot huh?" She asked concern filling her voice.

"Ever since I can remember." He replied.

"It's Ok... We'll figure it out, we'll find a way to make them stop. You know, I don't think that we have Melville here... I _could_ always read you a passage from something in one of my mother's files... nothing like a little political garb to send you to sleep." She told him, her tone light.

He laughed then and the sound was like music to her ears. "Nah. I think I'm Ok... thanks though." He declined her 'generous' offer in jest.

"Well I can't carry a tune either so I think a lullaby is out... But we could talk..." She offered.

"I think... I mean would it be Ok, if you just put your arms around me? I really need a hug." He replied nervously.

"Sure... You know I could use a hug too." She told him as he scooted over in the bed and lay on his side. She lay down next to him and wrapped her arms around him, feeling his hands clasp around hers.

"You sleep now honey Ok – I've got you." She assured him as she brushed her free hand through his hair.

"Night Emily." He murmured.

"Night Declan." She breathed as she felt him relax in her embrace.

* * *

><p>She had stayed completely still lying by his side until she was sure that he was asleep, the sound of his regular, even breathing soon filled the room and she knew that his slumber was this time dreamless.<p>

She carefully manoeuvred her body until she was able to move, careful not to disturb him as she slipped off of the bed and turned out the lamp. She tiptoed across the room and made her exit. As she shut the door behind herself she felt tears beginning to slide down her cheeks, the emotion of all this overwhelming her.

* * *

><p>She stood in the hallway outside his room for a while, trying to regulate her breathing and stop the flow of her tears but it was hopeless. Now that she had started she just couldn't stop. She made her way along the hallway heading towards her own room, but finding at the last minute that she couldn't face the prospect of spending the night alone with only her emotions for company. She retraced her steps and stopped outside of the door of the only person in the world she could imagine would understand how she felt right now. She mentally weighed up the sense of coming here, but decided that against her better judgement it was the only place she wanted to be right now. The only thing she could tell herself right now was that she had come here with no other expectation apart from to quell the raging emotions in her lonely and hurting heart, if she kept this in mind she's be safe in his company. She raised her hand, knocking lightly on the door and waiting a beat, before his murmured assent for entry reached her ears.<p>

She let herself into his room, shutting the door behind her. He was still fully dressed aside from his red tie, which despite not having been in the office, he insisted on wearing in the presence of the ambassador and she had to admit surprise. She had half expected him to have been sleeping but then he was trained to hear acute sounds and Declan hadn't exactly been quiet... He was on his feet and it seemed to her that she caught him mid pace.

* * *

><p>As soon as he turned towards her, noticing that she was crying, he was at her side, gripping her shoulders and trying to connect with her eyes, as if the reason for her tears would be hiding there. His thumbs massaged their way across her shoulder blades in a comforting motion and her sobs which had at first sounded like haunted wails, seemed to abate and she choked back the remainder.<p>

"Emily what is it?" He asked softly, concern filling his voice.

The simplicity of his kind tone set her off again and she was crying uncontrollably, the tears escaping her and rolling down her cheeks, from the tip of her nose and over her chin in salty droplets.

"Is it Matthew? Is he Ok?" Hotch asked concernedly and he was alarmed when she shook her head vigorously, pulling out of him grasp roughly.

"No... He isn't. He isn't Ok... He is never going to be because that isn't who he is." She told him, furiously trying to suck up her tears. God she must look a mess, she could feel the sticky tracks of her tears already drying on her face and her hair stuck to her forehead, she must look awful.

"What do you mean?" He asked, careful not to push her too hard.

"I mean Matthew Simmons never really existed. He has always been Declan Doyle. Even when Louise Jones took care of him that's who he was and I was a fool to think that I could try to change that – whatever my intentions." She replied, her voice shaky as she used the heels of her hands to wipe away her tears.

"You're no fool Emily. What you tried to do for him, you did because you care about him and you wanted him to live a normal life. I see no wring in that, I see a person standing here now who risked everything – your own life, your own safety to protect this boy and that tells me that he means more to you than you probably even realise. That's not foolish Emily, that's life, that's human nature." He told her, trying to soothe her.

"But it didn't make a difference did it? None of it did. His real mother was killed because of his father's beliefs, Louise Jones was killed by a cruel disease and now Marnie and Robert Simmons are dead, because of me because of what I did to keep Doyle from finding his son. The truth he couldn't be protected, he knows more about his father's crimes than even you do and he's seen far more than child ever should. He might have gotten away from Doyle but not without paying a price – his innocence, he did something that I never wanted him to – he killed a man and that haunts him. That's something I can't protect him from, I can't get inside his head and make this go away... there's nothing I can do for him... I feel helpless..." She told him, feeling the weight of her words beginning to calm her.

"Emily listen to me, listen. You did everything you could for him, there is nothing more you could have done. You couldn't predict that Doyle was going to use insiders to find out Declan's location, you couldn't tell when he was going to strike on the Simmons without jeopardising your own life – this was not your fault. This was Doyle – everything, what he did to you, to us and what he did to Declan's parents it's all him – you're not to blame. You're the one person in all of this who was able to do some good." He assured her, trying to rid her of the self doubt and blame she was placing upon her own head.

"But... He's so confused, he doesn't know what to do with everything he's got going on in his head and I'm supposed to be the one who tells him it's Ok, I'm the one who's supposed to say 'you don't have to worry, I've got it all figured out' and instead I have no idea how to handle this situation. I never had a brother growing up, I only know what a crush on the Roman boys I lived near to felt like..." She paused a moment, letting out her statement nervous laugh and he had to smile, for just a second he got a rare glimpse of fifteen year old Emily Prentiss, her biggest worry how to impress the boy she liked and it made him happy to think there had been a time when she had had that innocence... Before she had become pregnant, before her threatened excommunication, before the death of her friend Matthew, before everything she had seen in their profession and more importantly before Doyle – there had been that innocence...

She continued after a moment's pause, when she had felt awkwardness beginning to settle in on them again. " I don't know anything about how boys work...You know, I don't which soccer teams he supports, Hell I don't even know if he follows soccer or if he's more a baseball kind of person or maybe he doesn't like sports, I don't have the first clue how to give him advice about girls and growing up and going to college. When it comes down to it, I have no idea how to do the whole family thing, growing up it was just me most of the time with whichever minder my mother had paid. I always wanted the wish – you know like the one in _Miracle on 34__th__ Street, _I had the house and I belonged to the family, but we weren't ever really a proper family...I wanted the father who was home when I wanted him to be and the Mom who was always smiling and who loved me and I wanted the brother there to be my company...its stupid right?" She asked, watching his growing smile as it formed on his lips.

"It isn't stupid at all. It's natural that you would want those things, it just saddens me that you never had them. Don't you see? This can be your opportunity to have the family you always wanted – with Declan." Hotch replied, trying to get her to see what he could see coming so naturally.

"Oh yeah because the best place for him is with a single woman who has only just got her apartment back and keeps telling him that he has to be someone else. If I can't accept who he is then how can I expect him to? I'm not used to having someone around at home, it's always been just me and now I'm trying to provide a life for him and I don't even know where to start..." She told him, tears welling in her eyes again.

"Emily you're going to figure it out, it'll take a while but you'll get to know him and all those things you're worried about, they won't seem so big anymore. He'll tell you if he's happy, children do – things are a bit strange for a while but then you get a routine going and things don't seem so bad. But you have to remember that you're not alone – we're all here to help you and as for him having to be someone else -it doesn't mean that you don't accept him as Declan if you want him to live the life of a normal teenage boy, it just means that you care about him and as long as he knows that he can be himself around you and that you'll be there for him then that's all he needs." He told her reassuringly.

She was silent for a moment as she let the sentiment behind what he said settle on her.

"Why are you being so nice about all of this?" She asked after a moment, she was genuinely curious. After the way things had been left last night, she wasn't sure what she had been expecting him to be like but forgiving or even accepting had not been the words in her head.

"You expected something different?" He sounded amused. "We're friends Emily, I know that you think that's a bad idea, but we're not just colleagues – that's not the way the team has ever worked and I don't see why the relationship between us should be any different. Nothing about this situation is ordinary but the only thing I'm concerned about is that you're home." He told her.

"I don't deserve your kindness..." She told him hanging her head. He immediately reached out his finger and lifted her chin, causing her to look right into his eyes.

"Don't keep focussing on what you don't deserve." He told her and the emotion behind his words made her feel like this moment was become increasingly volatile, she should get out of here now, but his closeness and the feeling of comfort she was getting just from being in the room with him was the only thing which compelled her to stay.

"This morning..." She started hesitantly and he cleared his throat nervously.

"Mmm." He mumbled.

"You wanted to know what I needed..." She pressed.

"Emily..." His tone held a warning.

"I know what I need right now." She told him proceeding despite his warning.

"Oh?"

"I really need a hug... from a friend." She told him and suddenly his arms were around her and her head was resting on his shoulder as she breathed in the scent of his familiar cologne.

They stood this way for a while, neither of them saying anything as her arms wrapped around his torso and his hands rested on the small of her back. It wasn't what either of them had been expecting and really, it was not what either of them needed, it achieved little physical satisfaction but it did something to repair the rift which had been created between them over the past couple of days. Words didn't seem necessary and to question their strange kind of equilibrium seemed to be to break the moment between them something which didn't bare thinking about.

She drew back with some reluctance after what felt like hours in his peaceable embrace and she took a step back from him. His eyes looked less tortured somehow and she wondered if this wasn't all that he needed all along– just to know that she was still here – she wondered if all the desires she still felt were after all was said and done, simply one sided. But then as she moved to leave, he caught her hand and she knew... a hug would never be enough. He pulled her a little closer and she swore he had that 'I'm going to kiss you' look in his eyes but he remained completely still, making no attempt to act on this impulse. Instead, he smiled, a smile which seemed to be filled with genuine happiness and she returned it.

"Ok?" He murmured.

"Ok." She repeated.

She squeezed his hand and he seemed to become suddenly conscious of the fact that he was holding her hand. He recoiled quickly like she had burned him.

"Well goodnight Emily." He spoke with evident reluctance.

"Night Hotch." She murmured with equal reluctance and then she was gone.

* * *

><p>He laid against the pillows fully dressed and completely awake for a long time after she had gone. He didn't know how much time had passed but it felt like an eternity. A painful and yet strangely pleasurable eternity during which if he closed his eyes he could recall with astounding clarity the weight of her head on his shoulder and the way her body had pressed into him, melding against his own body perfectly. As he concentrated on the memory of her, he found that her perfume something warm and floral, the same scent she had worn before she had left, tickled in his nostrils maddeningly causing her to become all he could think of.<p>

He blinked his eyes hard several times trying to clear his mind and centre his thoughts enough to allow him to face the prospect of at least eight lonely hours with a least some semblance of an intention to sleep. After a while he let out a heavy sigh.

'_It's never going to happen Hotchner, face it.' _ A cruel voice inside him goaded and it was this voice which made him realise that even if they both wanted something to happen it never could. She had been right – Professionalism came first.

He pushed himself to the end of the bed and removed his shoes and socks, leaving them neatly where he had discarded them. Next he unbuttoned the cuffs on his stifling shirt and proceeded to unbutton it. It was hanging loose and he was just reaching for the buckle on his dark dress pants when there was the faintest knock at the door.

* * *

><p>He was silent as he dared to hope and as the thrill and the nerves of what this might mean started to wash over him. He tried to find his voice but his mouth felt as if it was suddenly filled with cotton. He began to worry that she would simply walk away again, but he needn't have. She did not even wait for his assent to enter before she was standing inside the door, her face no longer showing the signs of the tears she had been crying earlier. In their place were flushed cheeks and red lip stain and as they stared at each other he found he had never wanted her more.<p>

She watched him as he stood in complete silence, too stunned to speak or to ask her why she was back. She found his inability to speak endearing and she hoped it was a sign that he was expecting the same thing from her latest visit as she was. She observed him in his state of undress and had to admit she was surprised that he did not try to shield his body from her gaze as her eyes locked onto those mesmerising and powerful silvery-white scars which ran across his chest with something resembling hunger.

He stood, a little self conscious and stared at her meaningfully. _Why wasn't she saying anything?_

After a while she seemed to realise that he was waiting for her to say something, this was only logical –_ she_ had come in_ here_ after all.

She licked her lips nervously and let out a slow breath before she spoke which seemed to calm her down a little.

"What if I don't need a friend?" She asked quietly.

"What _do_ you need?" He asked, his voice gravelly.

She was silent for a long moment and he watched her carefully, noticing how she was toying with the hem of her shirt. She kept her eyes locked on his as she walked towards him, her fingers closing around the smooth plastic button at the bottom of her shirt. She watched him silently, picking up the way he drew in a sharp breath as she unfastened the buttons working backwards until she reached the top.

"You." She whispered, her voice thick with desire as she pushed the material of her shirt apart revealing the lace bra she wore beneath it.

* * *

><p>She closed the gap between them without giving him time to make a reply or even to think about what she had said. Her hands were resting on his shoulders in no time and his settled upon the small of her back as he pulled her forward, causing their lips to meet in an urgent and desperate way for the first time.<p>

She revelled in the momentary stillness she was offered as they both adjusted to the new sensation of having the other's lips on their own but she could rest or think for long before she felt his velvety soft lips beginning to move against hers and his hands beginning to work their way to her collar as he prepared to remove her loose shirt.

There wasn't time to think of breathing as she found herself responding to his kiss with equal fervour, suddenly unable to contain all of those feelings she had desperately been trying to deny for so long. After a while, she felt his teeth beginning to nip at her lips and she was helpless, she could not stop the low moan which escaped her lips, subsequently allowing him the access to her inner cavern which she knew he had been trying to gain.

She couldn't even entertain thoughts of frustration as she felt him slip his tongue into her mouth and sweep around it in that first tentative motion. He felt too good and the only thought she could coherently form was that she never wanted it to stop, she never wanted this kiss to end.

Soon, her mouth was following his as he led her into a passionate tango, their tongues twisting and twining together in the most beautiful and honest way as finally he seemed to muster enough strength to grasp her shirt and pull it from her body.

He crumpled the item in his fist and held it against her back for a moment as he continued to kiss her, not wishing to relent lest this moment be lost. She felt so good, her body pressed against his tantalisingly as her soft, sweet lips pushed against his in such a way that he was sure he was dreaming.

This had to be a dream, a very vivid and extremely realistic dream but a dream nonetheless. There was no way in Hell that Emily Prentiss was here in his room. That was what he thought until she drew back with a deliciously reluctant groan and he looked into her eyes seeing only one thing... The truth.

No longer the whirling, impossibly deep pools of melting praline he was so used to – which in his deepest fantasies he could always see so clearly – they were now purely black and the only emotion there was lust. Raw and undeniably real.

He went to speak, unsure of what he had even been about to say, but she touched a shaking finger to his lips and he was silenced. She kissed him again and the action was purely selfish – she loved the feel of his lips against hers, she craved the feeling and if it stopped him from questioning what they were doing then so much the better. In all honesty she hardly knew what this was herself, she just knew that she needed it.

* * *

><p>She rested her forehead against his for a moment as they got their breath back and she noticed how easy and how comfortable this felt. She had expected all kinds of awkwardness but she felt like she had known him forever. He began to kiss her again, his lips exploring her jaw, her neck and slowly moving lower and she let out little mewls of pleasure as his lips connected with her desperately untouched skin.<p>

In the charged silence she smiled as she threw her head back to allow him greater access to his neck and she heard the crumple of fabric as her shirt hit the floor. His lips did not leave her as she tried to walk them backwards towards the bed and she let out a loud gasp, louder than she had intended it to be, as his mouth brushed against the crest of her cleavage.

Her hand snaked into his short hair, fisting there in order to keep him exactly where he was as she pushed him back towards the bed. When his legs hit the frame of the bed he let out a frustrated groan and stood back up to his full height.

Her eyes mischievous and playful as her hands settled back onto his shoulders and pushed down on them with some force, encouraging him not so subtly into a sitting position. He stumbled a little, grabbing her waist and pulling her down with him as they seemed to fall through the air.

* * *

><p>Her palms connected with the soft white comforter as she braced herself hoping that they would not end up in a heap. Somehow, apparently by a work of miracle, they managed to remain in a semi-seated position and for a moment, the humour of the situation overtook them and they both laughed. It seemed to alleviate some of the tension between them, which helped to put this into perspective.<p>

She shifted herself and he placed his hands on her back as they regulated their breathing. She leaned into him and pressed a quick kiss before pulling back and staring at him. His eyes seemed worried and she suddenly became concerned that this wasn't what he wanted. Her hands rested on his shoulders and she massaged them a little as he made circular motions upon her back with his fingertips. Every time he brushed the back panel of her bra, he changed direction as if he was afraid to move this forward in that way. The insistent pressing of his hardness against her told a different story.

He looked up at her as she continued to ease the tension in his shoulders and he felt his heart rate quicken as he was overcome by the emotions which had driven them to this moment.

* * *

><p>"Why tonight?" He asked, his voice sounding distorted by his desire for her.<p>

She knew then that he did not want to stop, but he wanted to know why. She didn't know what frightened her more.

"I...I'm... tired... of pretending..." She told him, dropping her head to his neck as she gripped his shirt and drew it down his strong arms.

"Pretending?" He asked as he helped her shrug the shirt off him.

"That I feel nothing... that this isn't there..." She murmured as his fingers traced down her sides and brushed the waistband of her pants.

"We probably shouldn't... It's dangerous... it could get complicated..." He replied, trying to fight the feelings that were coming so naturally to him.

"It could _get_ complicated? It isn't already?" She asked playfully as her lips began tracing the first scar on his chest...

"You're right... But still..." He continued, not sure how long he could fight her for.

"Hotch tell me you don't want this... tell me you've never thought about this." She challenged.

"You know I have..."

"Then don't think about it... Show me... Make me believe that there's something here which is worth risking our professionalism for, I know you can see it. You told me as much last night." She begged, her lips moving ever lower.

"There is... I know there can be." He replied, his hands finding their way into her hair as she gripped the buckle of his belt in the cramped space between them.

"I've been so afraid." She whispered as she knelt from the bed and pulled the buckle loose.

"You don't have to be afraid anymore." He told her as she worked the button and zipper on his pants.

"When I'm with you I feel safer than I ever have." She told him, wondering if any of this made sense as he lifted his hips and allowed her to pull the pants from his body.

"I'm glad." He told her and he found that this was his last coherent sentence since immediately after stripping him of his armour, she began placing tiny kisses upon his legs, giggling occasionally as the whorls of dark hair which covered them tickled her delicate lips.

She traced her way up to his thighs until her lips brushed the edges of his boxers. When she got this far she stopped, looking up at him with lust filled eyes. He knew what she wanted but he was not giving to give in that easily. He needed to even the playing field a little.

He pulled her up quickly until she was flush against him and they were pelvis to pelvis. Through the single layer of fabric which shielded his desires, she could clearly feel his arousal and she moved herself frustratingly against him until he let out a small groan. As he opened his eyes, he saw how much she was enjoying teasing him and he decided that it was time he took control. He hadn't been with a woman since Haley and having this beautiful, illustrious brunette so close to him, willing to go wherever he took her, was just maddening for him. It was taking all of his self control not to ravage her right now, but he wanted to do this properly and to take it slowly. It was the least she deserved.

He kissed her again, somehow never seeming to get enough of her lips and the way she kissed him back with such unbridled passion. He had forgotten that kissing itself could be so sensual, he had forgotten how much pleasure could be derived from having a woman's mouth on his and her body tucked into his...

He felt a deep surge of heat course through his body and he used the kick of passion it seemed to produce within him to roll them both until she was in the submissive position, laying beneath him whilst he took most of his weight on his fore arms, balancing above her.

* * *

><p>"Ever since I got here I've been thinking about you like this..." He admitted as her hands pulled on his back, trying to bring him closer for another kiss, her success caused her to smile widely, something he would never get tired of seeing.<p>

"I don't have to tell you I've been thinking about you too, you know I have – you heard me 'thinking about you'." She told him, referring to the previous night and the moments neither one of them had been able to mention until now.

"I did..." He breathed guiltily as his hands moved blindly between their bodies trying to locate the fastening of her pants.

"Did I put on a good show? Did I make you hot for me?" She asked, laughter in her eyes.

He pressed a burning kiss to her shoulder as his hands brushed the waistband of her pants... "I was already hot for you." He replied somewhat uncharacteristically and she let out a small gasp at the admission .

"Oh come on... don't tell me you didn't know." He told her with a laugh, almost cheering as he popped the button of her pants and worked the zip down.

"I had an idea..." She conceded.

"You made it so I couldn't sleep, couldn't even close my eyes without thinking about what you were doing..." He told her, sliding the pants from her legs with a practiced expertise.

"I didn't sleep either... all I wanted was to come in here and tell you what I was feeling..." She told him, kicking away the unnecessary pants and drawing in a sharp breath as he ran his hands along the smoothness of her legs.

"You were all I could think about this morning that's why I had to go, I didn't think I could look you in the eye without betraying what I'd done... listening to you in a private moment, it was wrong of me." He apologised.

"Yes, it was wrong... you should have come in, it should have been you... It was all I could think about, how I couldn't bring myself the satisfaction I needed... How much I wanted it to be you." She told him, her voice strained as he found his way back up her body, his fingers brushing her black lace panties.

"I wished it could have been me too... but after the way you left I thought I was entertaining one side desires... I see now that I was wrong." He told her as his fingers played with the edges of the fabric and finally pushed them aside...

"Oh God." She murmured as she realised what he was about to do...

* * *

><p>"I am sorry you know... I should have shown you last night, I meant what I said – I want there to be something between us, I have for a long time." He told her staring down at her body as she quivered beneath him in anticipation.<p>

"I did too... I mean I do, I just thought that we couldn't with our jobs and everything that happened..." She replied, almost in tears now as his fingers caressed her sensitive skin.

"You know now though don't you? That when there are feelings like ours involved you can't stop it from happening... you know that don't you?" He asked, drawing out the moment she wanted probably more than anything right now.

"I know... I know... Please... Please..." She begged.

* * *

><p>"Show me." He instructed.<p>

"What?" She asked in confusion as she felt him draw back, resting on his haunches.

"Show me what you imagined me doing." He clarified, his eyes glittering...

"You want me to..." She couldn't even finish the sentence in her disbelief.

He simply nodded, watching as she swallowed hard and shut her eyes, allowing her own fingers to trail their way down her body slipping into the place which burned for _his_ touch.

She started slowly, timidly, embarrassed by her audience but soon the need for pleasure overwhelmed her and she found herself repeating the actions of the previous night. It didn't take long before her breathing was erratic and she moaned out loud. At first her words were incoherent but soon she was saying his name – his given name and he had never been more turned on...

* * *

><p>"Were you naked?" He asked, not knowing where this train of thought was coming from, barely recognising the words which fell from his lips – he had never acted this way around Haley, he had never had the courage but with her it seemed different – everything about her was sexy in a new way...<p>

"What?" She asked desperately embarrassed but not opening her eyes as she felt herself reaching a peak she had failed to last night, perhaps it was his presence right now...

"When you did this last night were you clothed or not?" He asked, needing to know every detail...

"No... I wasn't wearing anything" She gasped out the words and a flush of embarrassment very different from the lust already on her skin coloured her cheeks.

"Then we should do something about... this." He told her his fingers brushing across her bra.

She was close, closer than she had ever brought herself before and she knew that this was his doing and she let out a cry of despair as she felt him lift her upper body and unhook her bra...

She nigh on started sobbing when he reached down and dragged her arms back up her body, allowing him to remove the straps of her bra from her shoulders and dragging them off.

She opened her eyes as she felt the lick of air as it breezed across her now exposed skin and as he looked down at her he saw all of her confusion and how tortured she must have felt...

* * *

><p>"You didn't let me..." She stumbled over the words in her frustration. She hated that she had yet to find release it made her confused and disorientated.<p>

"I know... I wanted to..." He told her and again she was surprised by how forward he was being.

"You put me through all that just to do it yourself anyway?" She asked, anger present in her tone.

"No Emily. I won't be doing it like that." He told her leaving her more confused than ever.

"You won't?" She asked feeling the need to cry all over again.

He shook his head firmly before replying. "You see I would never have made love to you that way." He told her.

"Made love to me?" She asked, it had been a long time since she'd heard a man talk about sex like that.

He nodded and she became instantly more curious. "Then how would you do it?" She enquired sensually.

"With my mouth." He told her and before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her intimately, caressing her with his tongue and drawing her to the highest peak she had ever reached...

* * *

><p>It was all she could do not to scream outright. She had to bite down on the walls of her cheeks as she felt her internal muscles spasm around him, offering her all the release she could never have achieved on her own...<p>

She felt as if her whole body had been turned to jello. Her limbs were shaking and her muscles weak and honestly she had never felt better. She felt fantastic and as she stroked his hair, tufting it in her fists and pulling him up to look at her, she knew he was equally satisfied.

"No one has ever done anything like that for me before." She whispered into the silence as the realisation hit her. It was true – no one had ever been so attentive to her needs.

"Then you've been with all the wrong men." He told her and although the line was clichéd in his gravelly voice she could only find sentiment.

"I'm with the right one now though right?" She asked.

"I don't know... Was that something you liked?" He replied realising for the first time that he hadn't even stopped to ask her what she wanted, he had just made assumptions.

"Liked? Surely you can tell? I'm just trying to think of a way to repay you." She told him, her hand reaching down between them now that they rested face to face and brushing his hardness.

"Hmm that's sweet of you... But it's not something for tonight." He told her meaningfully, wondering if she would make the connection he had already made.

* * *

><p>His lips began travelling the expanse of her body again, kissing her breasts and spending extra time on the brand she wore on her left side. He heard her gasp and he understood that this would be hard, he had worried too about the first time he became intimate with someone after Foyet's attack, but she had done nothing but bestow loving attention on his scarring and he wanted to afford her the same courtesy.<p>

His lips continued their journey after a while, blazing a trail of hot kisses across her toned stomach and lower, reaching the long scar Doyle had left behind. He heard her draw in a breath and hold it as if waiting for a verdict.

"You're beautiful." He told her simply and he knew if he could have seen her face right at that moment it would be the picture of confusion.

"Don't." She mumbled, throwing her head to the side in embarrassment and disbelief.

"It's true... You think that these scars make me want you less?" He asked.

He made his way back up her body until they were once again face to face.

"Well?" He asked.

"I guess." She muttered.

"You're wrong. They make me want you more because they remind me that time is precious and I don't want to waste any more of it." He told her, brushing her hair back off her face and making her look at him.

"You really want me that much?" She asked uncertainly.

He smiled cattishly before replying "Can't you tell?" He mimicked her earlier tone and she laughed.

Her hands slid down his back reaching the waistband of his boxers and quickly rolling them down. He quickly discarded them and soon they were body to body, his desire pressing firmly against her intimacy. She elicited a sweet moan which he caught in a kiss as she expressed her deep contentment at this situation. He pushed himself up onto his forearms locking his eyes with hers. Only then did the logistics of this situation hit him.

"Emily I..." He started but she silenced him with a chaste kiss.

"I know... it's alright... We don't need it." She told him and she hoped that she conveyed her true meaning to him.

"Are..."

"Don't ask me that question... I wouldn't be here if I wasn't." She assured him.

That seemed to be all the assurance he needed. He took her hands in his and leaned down for another kiss as he eased himself gently into her...

* * *

><p>After that there were no words. There didn't need to be. The strength of the emotions in the room at that moment speaking for them. She rose from the bed as he set their rhythm, her body arching and cradling his like they had been made to be like this, joined in this way...<p>

He held her tightly as he moved within her, always gentle, always considerate as he slowly drew them towards an oblivion they both needed and craved. He had never been with a woman like her who seemed to anticipate everything he needed from her, the way she moved her hips against his steadily matching him and the pushing him further, encouraging him to go deeper, give her more of himself, did wondrous things for the amount of pleasure he was receiving and he knew that somehow this meeting with this lover, exactly like this had been predestined...

She was looking at him with desperate eyes, her gasps becoming more frequent and his own need was reaching new and incredible heights that he wasn't sure he could handle.

He broke their kiss for only a second, catching her eye and asking her silently for the permission, the confirmation he needed.

She simply nodded, tears in her eyes as her hands settled around his strong shoulders and he pounded into her like this was their last day on Earth.

"Please." He heard her beg between his hot open mouthed kisses and then he lost it. Not even the sound of her moans reached him as he became lost in those beautiful eyes.

As he squeezed her hands and rode on the waves of this delicious pleasure he was sure he would never forget this night. Putting all of his effort into one final thrust, he sent them both over the edge, capturing in the cavern of his own mouth the one word that meant more to him than anything...

"Aaron."

* * *

><p>She laid on her back staring up at the ceiling terrified that if she looked at him now the wonderful spell she seemed to be under would be broken and all that would be left would be deep set regret.<p>

Although she felt lost in thought she did not feel alone, it was not possible to right now. He was so close to her that the heat of his body seemed to be enough to melt the coldness of the fear she felt about what happened next.

After several moments of quiet contemplation she closed her eyes accepting that this was the way he liked to do things afterwards. As she was drifting in that uncomfortable in between of sleep and wakefulness, she felt him pulling her close, levering her body until her head rested against his chest and his heartbeat thundered in her ear. Hesitantly she slung a hand over his torso in a half sort of hug and his own wide hand settled on her slender arms his fingers brushing concentric circles on her skin.

He rested his chin on the top of her head and she bent her head up to look at him. He smiled down at her and she returned it feeling all of those doubts melt away as he held her.

"Sleep well Emily." He murmured his own voice heavy.

"You too Aaron." She smiled sleepily as she felt him brush a kiss into her hair.

In the still of the night the two people in the bed, who had only hours ago been lost and alone, found each other and in so doing found at least some sense of completion...

* * *

><p><strong>Well there it is. I hope you liked it and that it made you smile. I know some of you were eager for the resolution to that tension, hopefully this has provided that for you. I tried to make it a little different from previous pieces I've done... Sorry if I made you blush... It was a little naughtier than usual... <strong>

**I'm away on vacation from Monday so I'm afraid the possibility of an update before I get back on 29****th**** is slim mainly because it takes me forever to write them but hopefully you'll stick with me until then for some morning after rambles. **

**Hope I caught all the edits, forgive me if not.**

**I'd love to know what you thought. **

**As always thanks to everyone reading. **

**Love **

_**X~Michelle~X **_


	6. Sunday Morning

**Hello lovely people. **

**Firstly can I just say a massive thank you for all your reviews on the previous chapter, they really did warm my heart when I got back from vacation. I think I managed to reply to you all but that doesn't mean I'm not still grateful. I must apologise for the delay with this one, it's been written and re-written in my head for weeks and I genuinely just haven't had the time to sit down and really start work on it, plus a few times I've found myself dragging my feet with this one – but it's here now and that's the main thing. **

**I hope you enjoy this one and will feel free to let me know what you think. Reviews make me smile and type faster :-) **

**For Nik because I sincerely hope that this cheers her up and that she knows how much certain conversations we have inspire me. Also because a conversation we had oh so many weeks ago now inspired the way I wrote a particular moment in this – love you honey. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminals Minds, its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics, the title of this chapter and its content is inspired by the song by Maroon 5 for no other reason than that it is Sunday morning in the fic and also that the song has been stuck in my head...**

* * *

><p>~ "<em>I went to sleep last night with a smile because I knew I'd be dreaming of you ... but I woke up this morning with a smile because you weren't a dream."~ Author Unknown. <em>

The raven-haired agent woke with a start when a branch hit the window as a result of a fearsome gust of wind. _So the storm had broken. _It seemed ironic that this would be the first thought that would pop into the agent's mind, particularly because the storm almost possessed a metaphoric resonance to the situation right now. This realisation prompted the racing thoughts of a still sleep-laden mind to turn to the other person in the room. Sweeping a hand across the space next to him, Aaron Hotchner was not surprised to find the spot empty. He had half been expecting it given the amount of times during the previous night she had tried to creep out. Only the forearm he had kept tightly wrapped around her waist in feigned sleep prevented her escape. He had wanted to keep her there for as long as possible because ultimately, however much he had enjoyed making love to her, it had been her presence next to him, her head which had started off on his chest as she listened to his heartbeat - the very closeness of her which had brought him the solace he had been craving since losing Haley. It was the fact of being with someone and knowing that they were there. That it was her only made things better. He would have let her go; of course he would. He would have let her leave and then tried his best to forget that last night had ever happened – if he'd thought for a second that she really wanted to go. He supposed it was something about the way that every time she tried to leave he would squeeze her a little more tightly to him, then she would relax and curl her body into his like she wanted nothing more than to be here with him. He had started to wonder if all the times she had tried to leave weren't really some kind of test, some commitment thing she was trying to prove he would fail at. This notion made him feel a little more comforted than the other more likely option – that she simply regretted what had happened and had wanted to escape this awkward morning after bit. This reality would mean that they felt differently about what had happened and he didn't even want to consider that possibility.

Despite this, he was under no illusions. Her absence this morning told him clearly that she regretted the happenings of the previous night more than he did or ever could. He tried not to dwell upon his disappointment as he thought about everything that had happened between them, as he tried to emblazon the form of her perfect body into his mind for all of time – not that he needed to. From the moment he had laid eyes on her lithe and beautiful body he had known that try as he might he would never be able to forget the way Emily Prentiss had looked completely bare – stripped of all facades and his for the taking.

The sound of a fresh bout of rain pelting against the windows prompted him to pull himself up into a sitting position, effectively breaking the spell of last night. Surprisingly, the action did not add to his disappointment as he had expected it to, but rather threw him right back into that foggy world of half- realities and vividly fantastical dreams.

* * *

><p>She was sat at the foot of the bed, still gloriously naked save for the sheet she had thrown haphazardly around her waist as she watched the rain pounding on the windows through the small gap she had created in the curtains. He hardly dared to breathe lest this vision should disappear before he had even had the chance to process it. She seemed entirely oblivious to the fact that once again he was taking advantage of a private moment and watching her whilst she was blissfully unaware. He hoped that the fact that she was indeed still in the room meant that she wouldn't mind too much.<p>

After the longest time, some of the happiest minutes he had ever spent in his entire life, he found that watching her was no longer enough to satiate the desire to be near her, to know her and to possess her. He needed to touch her, to feel her velveteen skin beneath his fingers, his lips. He craved the ability to kiss her again, to feel her rose-soft lips moving against his and to know that this hadn't all been an extremely vivid dream. He moved slowly with stealth he did not recognise as his own, and suddenly he became the relentless predator and she his alluring prey...

She heard him stir and even felt the depression of the mattress behind her, she knew he was awake and approaching her. She was fully aware of his presence and yet, as he drew level with her and placed one knee on either side of her body she couldn't help but gasp in mild alarm and surprise. It was something so tender, so gentle – the way his strong arms and wide hands wrapped around her slender figure and just held her, not possessively or expectantly, just holding her – that she felt all of her emotions begin to overwhelm her. Of all the reactions she had been steeling herself for, this had completely astonished her - she simply hadn't imagined that it would be this way when they woke up.

* * *

><p>They both sat completely still for a moment, revelling in their renewed closeness and also gauging the other's reaction to this somewhat volatile situation. This seemed like one of those strange pre-dawn moments when significant things happened and were never talked of again but here they were – wide awake and still maintaining that delicate closeness which had been established last night. When he realised that she wasn't going to attempt to pull out of his embrace, he dropped his head to her shoulder and placed a tiny, tender kiss to the skin there, hearing the sharp intake of her breath and smiling at the thought that her emotions and reactions last night had not been temporary.<p>

She closed her eyes as he traced a pattern only he knew across her skin, trying to steady the racing of her heart as she enjoyed his attention.

"I'm sorry... Did I wake you?" She murmured, her head falling back against his shoulder as she did so.

"Not at all, the storm woke me... looks like we didn't escape it after all." He replied as she turned her head into his and their lips ghosted against each other.

"Don't you just love it?" She asked and for a moment he was shocked into silence – he knew what he wanted to say to her, that he loved_ her, _but it was too soon for all of that.

"Love what?" He breathed, wanting nothing more than to press his lips onto hers.

"The storm... The rain..." She replied, gasping again as his fingers began trailing their way down her body.

He was silent so she took advantage of this and stole a kiss, their lips melding together perfectly. "I've always loved a storm, the wind up and the rain beating against the panes... When I was a child, I'd sit in my bed, wrap my comforter around me like..." She paused grabbing his arms and manipulating them around her into a bear hug like he was a willing marionette – she'd have been right. At this moment he had absolutely no control over his body, the only thing he knew he wanted was to have contact with her, to never let her go. When she was satisfied she continued. "Exactly like this and I'd just watch the rain as it fell, trying to trace each teardrop as it ran down the window..."

She finished her little anecdote and he took pleasure from receiving this little glimpse of Emily Prentiss as a child. He could imagine her curled up in her bed in a big, lonely house like this one, watching the rain as it fell and being completely mesmerised by the experience.

"Why do you call the rain teardrops?" He asked out of curiosity, noting her deliberate choice of vocabulary. The rain evidently meant something to her, something he wanted to understand. He felt like he could never know enough about her.

"It's silly really..." She murmured as she felt him begin to massage her breasts a little. She loved the way he used his hands on her and she loved that he was not being hesitant as she had expected him to be.

"Nothing you could say to me would sound silly." He told her, hoping that his tone encouraged her to continue.

"It's just well... When my grandfather died, I was pretty torn apart and I couldn't accept that he was gone so... one day I don't know... I must have been in high school, I was in the library on a rainy afternoon and my mother found me crying all over a copy of _Anna Karenina_, to understand this you have to understand that my mother was an advocate of 'tough love'... She didn't believe in public displays of affection, didn't even believe in private ones so me being emotional about my grandfather's death... wasn't exactly Ok by her. She mopped the tears off of my book and then she wiped my face with the pads of her thumbs – I think that was the most affectionate thing she'd done for me in a long time – then she shocked the hell out of me by telling me that it was Ok to cry and to miss my grandfather because he missed me too – that the raindrops were really the tears of angels, of all the people we have lost... She told me the thunder was him getting angry and stomping his feet and the sunshine was the smile he was wearing every time I made him proud of me. It sounds ridiculous now and I should have been old enough to deal with it, but I'd never experienced the death of anything more significant than my goldfish so... it was pretty important to me. I don't know if it was the fact that my mother showed herself to be human for possibly the first time in my whole life that day, or maybe it was that I missed my grandfather so much... I'm not sure but every time there's a storm or it rains I think of him..." She trailed off, her own tears glittering in her eyes as she thought about all those emotions properly for the first time in years...

He was silent as he watched her for a moment, admiring this incredibly strong woman for opening up and sharing some of her vulnerability with him. It did nothing to diminish his feelings for her or the respect he would always have for everything she had done in recent years - how hard she had worked to protect them for example. It just made him realise that he had found someone who would always intrigue him and who ultimately would probably always have his heart.

"I'm sorry... I don't know why I'm telling you all of this. It's crazy right?" She asked sucking up her tears and wiping them away.

He said nothing for a moment as he shifted himself on the bed until they were face to face. It was a little more difficult than he had anticipated, but eventually chocolate orbs met chocolate orbs and the emotion he conveyed in that one look said more than his words could ever convey.

"It's not crazy... it's the exact same thing I tried to tell Jack – that his Mom's always going to be there, that she can think and feel and know... I think it's beautiful." He told her, leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to her lips.

"I know what you're saying... it's stupid that I hold onto something my Mom told me when I was a kid right?" She asked, her eyes downcast in embarrassment.

"Not at all. I think it's a great thing to hold onto – the idea that the people we love never really leave us, that they're gone but never really lost. I wish I had had that mentality when I lost..." He stopped short, knowing that mentioning his ex-wife right now was probably not the best way to go about this particular moment.

She was contemplative for a minute as the name he did not say settled around them and all of those old feelings – the pain, the grief and the confusion began to crowd in on any happiness that they may have been feeling. After pausing for thought she realised that she was going to have to be the bigger person and address the two huge elephants in the room – namely the wife he had lost and what they had done the night before.

"Haley? You can talk about her to me, I do understand. I saw what losing her did to you." She told him, her tone accepting as she soothed him.

"You know you really were my saving grace back then Emily, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there. I think that's why I found it so hard to accept that you were gone, that even though I knew you'd survived, he had still managed to take you away from us... from _me_. It was your absence which made me realise that at some point I'd stopped missing Haley." He replied easing her back down onto the bed and pressing his lips to hers gently.

"So you stopped missing her... your heart started to heal?" She asked daring to hope that there was room there for her.

"No. Quite the opposite because even though I didn't wake up every morning feeling the pain of the hole she had left, I realised that my life would never be quite the same again because I missed _you_. I missed you so much that I wasn't even sure how my heart could cope. I knew then that you meant more to me than I ever realised that you did... I realised that I..." He made to continue but she cut off his words with a long and deep kiss.

"Don't..." She murmured, trailing her hands across his strong shoulder blades.

"Emily I..." He tried to go on, but again she stopped him with a kiss.

"Please Aaron not yet; don't make this about saying a word... or not saying it..." She told him and she hated the hurt in his eyes for her to add to that sentence meant that she didn't feel that particular emotion and that she doubted she ever could.

"I just want you to know how I feel. I need to be honest with you."

"You think I don't know? You think last night and now – this morning wasn't enough to tell me?" She asked in a tone of mild surprise.

"Those were just actions Emily." He breathed somewhat disappointedly.

"I hear that actions speak louder than words." She replied, her voice giving away the challenge she set him.

He was silent for a moment as he appreciated the way her hands worked across his shoulder blades gently massaging them and making him naturally more pliant – it didn't take him long to realise what she wanted – his lips on hers again.

He complied pushing his lips against hers as her fingers tangled in the short tufted hair at the nape of his neck and he began to feel his body responding to her. He knew it was wrong, they hadn't talked properly, they hadn't defined what had happened between them but despite the risk of getting caught, nothing had changed now that morning had come – at least not for him.

He took advantage of the slight gap between their bodies, letting his fingers trace their way over the smooth planes of her beautiful body. He pressed kisses to every inch of her face as he moved, almost as if creating a distraction which seemed to be working. The alarm on her face when his fingers slipped into her intimacy made everything worthwhile. He only wished there was a way he could capture that expression forever because he knew he would probably never see it again, so blissful was it that he dared not to hope that he could bring her to that state twice – he didn't even know if there would be a second night, whether they could survive outside of this moment, this room...

* * *

><p>"Aaron what are you doing?" She asked her tone filled with surprise.<p>

"Seeing whether it's true Emily." He told her, his fingers beginning to move within her as she pulsed around him.

"But I thought...You said... you'd never make love to me this way." She stammered in agitation.

"Maybe I wasn't quite telling you the truth." He replied pressing another kiss to her plump lips.

"Hmm... I'm not sure I appreciate the lack of honesty." She mused, telling her own lie.

"Oh really?" He asked, his eyebrow quirking as she let out a particularly delicious gasp and began to quiver against him.

"Maybe not." She conceded as she collapsed against him minutes later.

* * *

><p>She knew they should be getting up – there was a whole world out there and instead of facing it, they were laying in her mother's guest room entwined in each other and thinking of no one but themselves. She knew that the minute she stepped outside of here this whole thing became real and there would be consequences. Not least, she would have to face her mother who whilst being mature in years was certainly not experiencing any of the ailments associated with the more advanced stages of life – namely a loss of hearing... and then of course there was Declan. Emily could only hope as she lay beneath the man who had so quickly gone from being just her boss to her lover, that the boy's slumber after his nightmare had been deep.<p>

She stared up at the ceiling, looking through the skylight and noting that the rain had shown no signs of stopping. In all honesty she knew that if she could have stayed this way forever she would have been happy – not having to face what she had done and all the steps she still had to take in order to come home but that simply wasn't realistic and she realised that sooner or later they would have to discuss what this was and what it meant. In the strangely comforting silence, she felt as if there was no time like the present.

"I'll probably never say it you know." She commented as if in response to an ongoing conversation they'd been having – it made it easier somehow.

"Say what?"

"Y'know, the_ thing_ you want to me say." She replied hesitantly.

"What do I want you to say?" He asked in genuine confusion, lifting his upper body so that he could look at her face.

"_It_... The _thing_ you want to say to me... Just _'it'_." She told him in mild frustration, perhaps she had just misread him? Maybe that four lettered word hadn't been on his lips earlier.

"It? Well that makes everything clearer. It's not as if 'it' could denote a million and one possibilities." He laughed as he watched the blush of frustration and embarrassment colour her chest.

"Come on Hotch, give me a break... It's just, oh God..." She paused, searching for the words to describe what she wanted to say. "It's just that I don't... I don't let myself 'fall in love' – from experience my heart always gets broken and present company accepted, I have sort of a bad radar as to who 'the right guy' is." She told him, her blush raging on her cheeks now as she thought about Ian Doyle and what a crazy messed up time that had been for her and considered the fact that since him she had not been in a relationship – not that her relationship with him had ever been real – or hers – it had been Lauren's...It was all just so frustrating and so terrifying.

He considered this for a moment before pressing a quick kiss upon her hard, closed mouth, he wanted to take away that severity - she was beautiful when she smiled. "Correct me if I'm wrong..." He paused, kissing his way along her jaw and loving the girlish giggle she let out when his stubble brushed her smooth skin. "But I think you may just have said it." He completed his sentence and let out a laugh as a look of dawning realisation washed over her face, highlighting everything beautiful about her countenance.

She jutted her jaw out a little and pouted somewhat uncharacteristically as she refused to admit that saying the word 'love' was exactly what she had done.

"Doesn't count." She breathed.

"Oh no?"

"Nope, I didn't put it in a sentence which meant anything to you or to me." She replied triumphantly.

"Tell me Emily... what would that sentence sound like – the one that means something to us?" He asked, trying to illicit those precious words from her lips.

"Na uh. You're not going to get me Hotchner – Fool me once..." She started but he cut across her.

"You still said it." He laughed, feeling like the cat that had the cream right now.

"You tricked me therefore all mentions which may or may not have been made of _that _word are null and void!" She retorted, getting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed – the bed linen falling away and leaving her gloriously exposed to his roving eyes.

He reached out to her, catching hold of her wrist before she could get any further. "Where are you going?" He asked, his eyes never leaving her body, which she made no motion to cover up.

"Well I can't speak for you but I am _so_ not a morning person – I need coffee." She replied, smiling cattishly at his anguish.

"Don't be gone too long." He told her as if they had all day, as if this was the way they had spent every Sunday Morning for years. There was also something else there – something deeper and more meaningful – almost as if he was afraid that she would never come back.

"Aw are you going to miss me?" She teased swooping down and kissing him again.

"Infinitely." He told her without hesitation, but he still let her wrist go as she bent down, salvaging his white dress shirt from the floor and haphazardly throwing it on.

"That looks good on you." He commented his voice raspy with desire as she made her way to the door and she shot him a bemused look as she opened it a fraction and peered out into the hallway.

"Why do I feel like I'm nineteen years old sneaking back my room after a night with the 'site manager' all over again?" She grimaced, however found her lips breaking into a wide smile as she held onto that last image of his completely shocked face before she shut the door behind her.

* * *

><p>She stepped gingerly down the hall, knowing by now that her mother would be up and roaming the house. She was probably dying for the opportunity to spring on her and Emily would be damned if she was going to let her get it. She crept past Declan's room, noting as she did that she could still hear the heavy rise and fall of the boy's sleep filled breathing. At least that was one less thing to worry about right now. She had made it down the stairs and almost to the kitchen completely unscathed until her mother flew at her from her office.<p>

"Emily may I speak with you please?" She asked in a clipped tone.

She wished the Earth would just open up right here, right now. Here she was, dressed only in _his_ shirt, her cheeks flushed, hair mussed and lips swollen and her mother wanted a conversation now? Did the woman have no sense of decorum? Or was this simply a way to remind her that she had in fact behaved with a distinct lack of that quality. Great. She had just given her mother another nice big stick to beat her with. Fantastic.

"Mom I..." She started but her mother was looking at her with an expression that said 'do not mess with me'.

"Now Emily." She said and those two words sent her careening back more than twenty years into the past. Yep this was it. Her mother's own twisted version of 'the walk of shame' – back to bite her in the butt even after all these years.

Her shoulders fell in defeat and she nodded following her mother wordlessly into the office. Her mother moved to stand in front of the large bay window, the all white cashmere jumper and linen pant-suit combo she was wearing making her look like some eerie reincarnation of _The Woman in White. _Emily on the other hand stood just inside the room, her toes digging their way into the plush stone coloured carpet as she bit her lip and looked like the teenage version of herself she had once been. This was exactly like the day her mother had found out about Philippe...

Elizabeth was tight lipped as she observed her daughter in her state of undress. She didn't like doing this and certainly did not relish the idea of losing that finely constructed understanding they had seemed to reach over the past few days but it was for her own good. It seemed to her that her daughter was not about to be forthcoming and in some ways she couldn't blame her but they had to sort this out, this had to be stopped before Emily got hurt.

"So?" She asked, a little more bitterly than she had intended, hoping that this would inspire her daughter to continue.

"So...What Mom? What do you want me to tell you that you don't already know – that you didn't _hear_?" Emily spat out defensively feeling gratified by her mother's blush.

"Stop it, you're being ridiculous. You always do this Emily, we can never have an adult conversation can we?" Elizabeth shot back at her.

"Well I'm just waiting for you to wake up and realise that I'm not a kid anymore and that you don't control me. I don't have to tell you everything anymore, you do not get a say about who I sleep with – I know that comes as a disappointment to you." She replied maliciously, knowing it was a low blow but really feeling like this was the last thing she needed right now.

"What were you thinking Emily? He's your boss for goodness' sake – didn't you stop to consider the repercussions of this? What is your unit chief going to say about this?" Elizabeth asked the questions successively, not pausing for a moment's breath.

"You think I'm that stupid? That's all I've thought about... For years... For years I wondered what it would be like to have a relationship with him, if there was anything there or if it was all in my head. This wasn't a 'mad five minutes', he didn't say to me 'hey you're back, suppose we'd better have sex to mark the occasion' and that wasn't what it was for me either. Last night was a culmination of a lot of stuff... to do with him and to do with me – there's all the stuff with his wife and then there's Doyle on my side and this... this has been building up since we first met, in an office just like this one in some house on some posting. _Your _posting. How's it feel Mom? To know that you brought us together?" She shot, the venom in her words surprising even her.

"I'm worried about you Emily; I don't want this to affect your career, your happiness."

"You say that like the two things are inseparable. Newsflash Mom, it's 2013 – a woman can have a career and be happy or she can find something else that brings her happiness. Maybe this, _he_ is my something else. Last night we decided to go for it – to realise that what we feel for each other is worth fighting for." She told her, a smile breaking out across her face as she realised that what she said was true – he did make her happy, happier than she had been in years.

"There are feelings involved?" Elizabeth grimaced at the word, like the concept of sex based on feelings was alien.

"Yes, there are. That man makes me feel things that I've never felt before and you're not going to want to hear this but he made love to me, he actually _made love_ to me – it wasn't just sex – he really cares about me and I really care about him too, do you know how rare that is, how hard it is to find?." Emily asked her, feeling like she had to justify every little thing to her mother – hating that she'd had to resort to bringing up what had happened between the two of them to make her understand that she was safe with Aaron, that she was happy.

"You have to stop it before it goes too far, think of the damage it could do. Think of the children involved here - Agent Hotchner's son and Matthew... he's as good as your son now too – this isn't good for him right now and it isn't good for you – you need to get used to getting by, just the two of you for a while..." She trailed off noticing that every word she said acted as a knife in her daughter's heart.

"He isn't called Matthew, his name is Declan." Emily whispered, suddenly feeling in a truth-telling mood.

"What?" Elizabeth sounded confused, like she couldn't see the link between the conversation they had been having about agent Hotchner and this name Declan.

"His name is Declan Doyle. He's Ian Doyle's son." She continued, hating the contorted look of absolute confusion on her Mom's face.

"I don't know you at all do I?" Elizabeth murmured.

"You're only just realising this? Whose fault is that?" She asked, making this more personal that it had to be. "I tried hiding the truth, for two years I played dead to my team, to you – I tried to give him a fresh start as Matthew but that isn't going to work – I have to love the person that he is. You know I realised something last night...This thing... it is what it is, I've done things – been a person I never thought I'd have to be, but I am what I am, that's what I'm trying to tell you about Aaron- there is no point in pretending anymore. I just have to live my life. I have to try – I'm just Emily and Declan is just Declan, he is who he is – so please let it be." Emily snapped.

Elizabeth seemed shell-shocked for a moment before she replied, knowing that she had to let her daughter deal with things in her own way – independence had been drummed into her. "I know we haven't exactly seen eye to eye – I know there are things that you can't tell me, or... _won'_t but you have to know Emily I never meant for it to be like this between us. I've always loved you and I... tried." She finished but she knew it was a half hearted truth.

"The Hell you did! You're 'Mommy act' lasted two days before you're going all 'totalitarian' on me. I should have known that coming back here was a mistake." Emily retorted and her voice was genuinely saddened by the realisation that nothing here had really changed.

"You really hate me don't you Emily? That saddens me, it really does."

"Oh it '_saddens_' you? Right, good to know. At least you're capable of feeling _something._ You know, all I ever really wanted was for you to be there for me, to love me." Emily replied, blinking back tears.

"What do you think I'm trying to do? Do you think I'm saying these things, giving you this advice because I'm trying to stop you from finding happiness? Do you really think so little of me? All I'm saying is you have to be careful, you're a smart girl Emily – you've a good head on your shoulders. I just think if you sat down and thought this through, when you've gotten over that glowing incredible feeling you're experiencing right now you'd realise that this – an affair with Agent Hotchner" she paused, noting her daughter's reaction to the word before she continued, softening her tone a little. "Even a relationship with him is just not the best thing right now." Elizabeth sighed heavily.

"You know, the worst thing about this whole messed up thing is that I might actually agree with you. Of course I've thought about the practicality of it all and with all the complications you're probably right - a relationship with him is not looking like the best thing for me right now... but Mom I care about him, I really do - more than I ever have for any man and last night was so...lovely. To be treated like a woman – not the ambassador's daughter, not the FBI agent, not Lauren Reynolds, not the person who had to be on the run – just Emily - that felt so good – it was like he saw straight through everything bad and right into my soul. I don't want to give that feeling up but I know we have to work it out. The only thing I do know for certain right now is that when I do figure it out it'll be my decision and mine alone – because I sure as Hell am not a little girl anymore." She told her firmly before leaving the room and heading to the kitchen – a million thoughts racing through her mind.

* * *

><p>When she entered the bedroom a few minutes later carrying two coffees – one black and unsweetened and one with cream and two packets of splenda – she was surprised to find that he was up, the bed was made and he was dressed in his charcoal dress pants and was in the middle of buttoning a fresh white shirt. She was immediately put on alert – what had changed between a few minutes ago and now? He had been so content, had seemed so willing to spend time in bed with her and now he was dressed and ready to go. As she looked wordlessly at his face, she noticed his 'Aaron Hotchner' mask of professionalism was firmly in place.<p>

"Where are you going?" It was her turn to ask the question.

"I just thought it was about time I was up." He replied.

She shook her head vigorously, knowing there was more to it than that. Placing the coffees on the bureau just inside the door, she crossed the room to him, her hands resting upon his shoulders as if by instinct.

"Talk to me Aaron, don't shut me out." She told him, noting the way he kept his eyes trained away from hers.

He was silent for a beat before he lifted his eyes to meet hers. "Isn't that exactly what you've just done Emily?" He asked coldly.

"What?"

"You're right you know, this..." He motioned between them "is not the best thing for you, maybe even for both of us right now. What you need is to get your head around being home and being back to work and living with Declan. You don't need me in any capacity, it would just complicate things if I was suddenly thrown into the mix." He sighed knowing that truthfully these words were the last things he wanted to utter to her.

"Aaron..." She started, panic colouring her tone.

"Don't... Don't say something you don't mean. You said it was lovely and it was – we should just leave it there."

"Aaron listen to me Ok, those things I said... I wasn't thinking, I was confused." She tried to salvage this situation before she lost something so good in her life.

"But now you're not? In the space of five minutes you've gotten over your confusion?" He asked in disbelief.

"The only thing I was confused about was why I was having doubts. I want this... _you_. I want to give us a chance and last night... it wasn't just lovely. Lovely is such a wishy-washy word – last night was incredible, I've never been with anyone like you - someone who cared that much about what I wanted and what I needed. I've have never been so... satisfied. I was hardly going to tell my mother that was I?" She asked with a blush before she pressed a kiss to his lips – a kiss he accepted and deepened.

"You really mean that? You want us to try – you can see it going somewhere?"

"Yes... I meant what I said last night – I'm tired of pretending that this doesn't exist." She told him honestly, beginning to walk them back towards the bed, the coffee forgotten...

* * *

><p>She pushed him gently giggling in surprise as she felt him grip her waist and pull her down with him. They lay in a collapsed heap for a while, their bodies entwined as they laughed – really laughed and it felt so good.<p>

After what felt like hours he rolled her to her side so that they were face to face. Looking at her now in her dishevelled disarray, he knew that he had found the epitome of happiness. She really was beautiful and he never wanted to forget this moment, never wanted to forget what it had been like to be with her. Their future was so uncertain and he wanted to enjoy every moment he had left with her. Life as he knew it was about to change irreversibly whatever they decided and he needed to be ready for that.

He took the opportunity to press lazy kisses to her lips as she wrapped her arms around him clinging on tightly, as if letting him go was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Mm... Why can't it always be like this? Simple..." She mused snuggling her head into the crook of his shoulder.

"It is kind of magical huh?" He agreed, his hands finding their way into the shirt she wore and sculpting their way across her bare skin.

"Mm hmm magical and uncomplicated, I wish it could stay like this forever..." She murmured concentrating only on the sensation of his hands on her body.

"Maybe it could, we won't know until we try." He replied, his voice full of hope.

"No... It _will_ become more complicated. There'll be other things we'll have to factor in – other people – the children, Strauss and the team. I just worry that it could become _too_ complicated and I don't want to resent us as a single entity, as who we are together... as a.." She stopped abruptly and the word hung heavily in the air around them.

" You mean a couple? I think we have to cross each bridge as we come to it. I'm not saying it's going to be easy, it'll be work but we owe it to ourselves to at least try." He told her, already resolute – losing her was not an option.

"I like your optimism but people are going to try to stop us... people like..." She trailed off and he supplied the answer.

"Your mother?" He asked with a smile.

"Exactly. Are you sure I'm worth facing the wrath of my mother for? I know you've had experience on that front before..." She bit her lip realising that his answer to this could mean more than both realised.

"Emily... Look at me, listen to me – you are worth whatever we have coming our way, however hard it's going to be – I know that being with you is the only thing I want." He assured her taking her hand and drawing it to his lips.

"Y'know everything in here is pretty perfect, _you_ are pretty perfect." She told him, kissing him gently.

"We could be perfect together outside of here too Emily." He told her, hoping she knew how sincere he was.

"I hope so because in here I feel like nothing can hurt us, like nothing else matters. It's just you and me and it feels like magic. I don't know if I can handle losing that." She mumbled against his neck as she heard her mother thundering around downstairs as here in this room Emily Prentiss, the independent woman, staged her protest with the man she had always wanted.

It was true, here in this room and in this moment she really did feel safe and secure. She was experiencing happiness the like of which she had never really felt before and she was so worried that this was purely reactionary – to their mutual need not to be alone, to the intensity of the feelings that had powered them last night. She feared above all things that when they stepped out of here and faced the big wide world with all its problem, this would be lost –_ they_ would be lost. That their 'coupling' would become something which had happened at a time of confusion and high emotion and should never be revisited. Still, as she looked at him now, listening to everything she had to say, she knew there was hope.

"Emily...I have to say it, I_ have_ to. I..." He began to reply but again she cut him off.

"Please Aaron, not yet... don't say it, not until you're sure..." She begged and he gave her a bemused look.

"You think I'm not sure?" He asked raising himself onto his elbow.

"I think you want to be sure... I think we're both still in that _lovely _morning-after stage and we should take some time to really think about how we're feeling before we commit." She told him, though she did not dismiss his feelings at all. After this, they kissed wordlessly for several long minutes before she started to get up again.

"Why are you always running off?" Aaron asked with a laugh.

"Well Agent Hotchner, it may have escaped your notice but we do in fact have things to be getting on with today, like going into work and finishing the briefing – well at least you have to, I'll just be there listening attentively." She told him with a wide grin.

"Or... we could stay here and have a _debriefing_ instead." He replied suggestively, reaching for her as she stood up.

"Hmm... I seem to recall that we already had one of those..." She told him with equal suggestion as she reached down and gathered her clothes making sure her panties were on full view for him.

"Remember?" She asked, throwing the clothes into a heap on the bed before leaning down and pressing a swift kiss to his lips.

"Vaguely." He murmured nonchalantly.

"Oh so it was _vague _for you?" She quipped.

"I don't know, maybe I just need a little reminder." He told her as she made her way to the door.

"Hmm I _might _be able to help you there Agent Hotchner... sometime or other." She told him indifferently. Just as she reached the door she turned and gave him a small wink full of promise.

* * *

><p>Hotch waited in the SUV for her to come out. They were heading back to Quantico but he knew she had to make arrangements for Declan and to double check that he was Ok about all of this. It was going to be tough, that was a given with all the travelling and disruption but he knew she was strong, that she would handle it. The rain had eased but the humidity was showing no signs of letting up so he switched on the air conditioning if only to make the three hour trip more comfortable. He tapped the wheel as he waited for her.<p>

Five minutes later she appeared whilst Declan stayed behind in the doorway. He found this mildly strange, particularly he had been under the impression that they were dropping him at the apartment on the way through to the Bureau – still he knew she would explain.

She placed a supportive hand on his shoulder and said something brief to him which elicited a small smile before he withdrew and closed the door. She turned away and let out a sigh before walking down the steps and heading towards the SUV. She opened the door and slid in beside him and before saying anything, he took a moment to appraise her appearance – she wore a simple black dress and a blazer with courts – she looked like herself again... She looked good.

She relaxed back against the seat and massaged her temple a little. A worry appearing at her brow.

"Everything Ok?"

"Yeah I... No." She breathed closing her eyes for a moment – strength seeming to desert her.

"Hey... What is it?" He asked slipping his hand into hers and squeezing it lightly. "Come on tell me what's going on." He pressed when she remained silent.

"I don't know, I just don't think being home is going to be as simple as we thought." She murmured.

"What happened?"

"Nothing I just think this is going to be tough on Declan, a new city and a new school then there's the fact that he has to live with me and stay with my mother whilst we're on cases..."

"Emily I thought we talked about this, you're going to be fine. Both of you. You'll work it all out and you're certainly not alone". He reminded her.

"Thanks." She smiled. "God I never thought it would be this much pressure – I don't know what I thought it _would_ be like but not this..." She continued after a moment.

"Hey maybe we should just skip going to the office today – we're not flying until six am tomorrow. Maybe I should just take you home – you and Declan and you can start adjusting.

"Huh." She made the noise and paused for a moment. "That's the way it's always going to be now isn't it? 'Declan and I'- not just Emily anymore." She commented.

"So how's it feel – motherhood I mean?" He asked as they sat there starting out through the windshield. That was what it was after all. Motherhood.

"Strange... I mean I'm responsible for someone else for the first time in my life – but good, so good, I feel like someone needs me for the first time and I feel like I have something to offer him." She replied with a small smile.

"Then you're a natural – that's exactly what you're supposed to feel like."

"What? Scared out of my mind?" She laughed nervously.

"Yes exactly and let me tell you something, it will never go away." He laughed and was pleased when she did too.

"I don't think I ever want it to." She replied after a moment and it was the easiest thing she had ever said.

"So what do you say? Should I take you home?"

"I... I appreciate the offer but I think I'm going to come back here after we go in – just for tonight – for Declan. If he has to stay here whilst we're away this time then I feel like I should give him some warning about what to expect, God only knows what'll be like when Mom come to stay at the apartment whilst I'm away." She replied, the thought actually settling on her like a doomsday sentence.

"Ok, whatever you need. So, ready to go?" He asked after a beat.

"As I'll ever be." She replied, sucking in a breath and holding it.

* * *

><p>It was exactly like she remembered it. Nothing had changed. Even William the head of security was still there. Not that she expected him to be anywhere else, it was just the realisation that life here had not stopped when she had 'died'. It had gone on as normal, in a different tract perhaps but inevitably on. It was part of the human condition – feeling like you were the only person in the world who mattered and it was a natural smack in the face when they realised that you weren't.<p>

She advanced slowly, not failing to notice the look of sheer surprise on the faces of the agents they passed on the way up to the BAU floors. He was standing by her side, she could feel the heat of his body radiating into the air around her and it was the only thing which warmed the ice in her veins. Several times she heard a malicious whisper and not for the first time today she wished the Earth would swallow her up.

He leant past her pushing the release on the door and she took the opportunity to retreat. She had to get out of here, it was too much. Just as she was turning to go, she felt his hand on the small of her back. He did not apply any pressure but she could feel him – it was enough to tell her that he wasn't going to let her go that easily again. She looked down between them finding his hand and slipping hers into it for a moment before he stepped back and let her enter the BAU before him.

"It's Ok." He promised as they proceeded to the bull pen.

The room was buzzing with activity just like always and as they advanced through the bullpen she returned the smiles of several agents who recognised her before she reached the area designated to the team – her team.

They five other agents on the team were scattered around the area going about a miscellany of tasks all relating to the case. So wrapped up in them were they that they didn't even notice that she was in the room. She had to wonder if this is how it had been since she had left – whether they had noticed her absence at first but then had just started to move on, away from her. She couldn't blame them, this was the natural progression of life but still the thought that they could live without her was a smarting pain in her heart.

* * *

><p>JJ breezed in from the left carrying a manila folder but she stopped in her tracks when she saw Emily, all thoughts of the case diminishing in importance compared to seeing her friend back where she belonged – finally home.<p>

"Welcome home." The blonde agent remarked and the rest of the team turned towards her...

Penelope dropped the file she had been looking over and headed straight towards her friend- her arms were thrown around the slender brunette and she was sobbing into her shoulder before Emily had even processed what had happened.

"Hey PG." She murmured against the blonde's hair as she held her tightly, thanking her lucky stars that her friend's innocence had never been such evil as Ian Doyle.

After a while Penelope pulled back from Emily, placing a hand on her cheek and looking at her in sheer disbelief.

"You're... really real..." Penelope whispered and Emily found herself laughing – of all the things she could have said, this seemed to be one of the most outlandish things the technical analyst had ever said to her.

"Really really. Here I am." Emily replied with a smile.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too PG, more than you could ever know." Emily admitted choking back her own tears as she walked with her over to her desk – left exactly as she remembered it and showing her that whatever she may have thought, this team had never forgotten her and had never moved on.

She brushed her fingers across its surface almost affectionately as she turned to the place where Spencer Reid sat, his brow furrowed and his expression pained. She crossed behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder – hoping that it would prove her presence to him.

"You came back?" The sentence came out as a strangulated question.

"Hey" she started, kneeling in front of him and moving her hand to his knee "I promised didn't I?" She finished.

"I know... I thought..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

"I know and I promise I won't run again Ok?"

"Ok."

"So" Rossi spoke from behind them "Everybody ready to get to work?" He asked, knowing that they had a lot to do before they flew out in the morning.

* * *

><p>Everyone nodded except Derek who sat at his own desk brooding darkly and not joining in with this second reunion.<p>

"_Baby boy you all good?" _Garcia asked but he didn't seem to hear her at first.

After several seconds' more silence something inside of him seemed to snap.

"You know what? No." He told them and they all wore confused expressions.

"I can't do it. I can't pretend." He continued, standing up and taking two steps closer to them.

"What are you talking about Derek?" Penelope asked him in genuine confusion.

"I'm talking about this. I'm talking about this happy families thing you all have going on – I'm talking about _her_" He paused jabbing his finger at Emily "coming in here and thinking things are Ok. I'm talking about you all wearing painted on smiles like you're Ok – when the truth... the truth is you're hurting just as badly as... the truth is _she _lied to us." Derek blasted and this reaction was quite different to the joy he had exhibited when he had first found out that she was alive, gone was the relief and the hugs that went with it. This was honest, this was real – this was the reaction Hotch had been so afraid of describing to her in her mother's kitchen and though it felt like a knife in her heart, she relished his honesty and his anger. She needed it.

With that, he pushed past them and made his way towards the door, realising that he had to take himself out of the situation before he said something he truly regretted. The team were flabbergasted by his outburst. It seemed too shocking, too awful.

She felt JJ place a supportive hand on her arm but she seemed to be feeling these sensations from somewhere outside of her body. The only which compelled her to keep upright was Derek's honesty. Finally someone was telling the truth about how this had affected them and she was glad of this, it made her realise just how much she had meant to them and they to her.

"Morgan!" She heard Hotch call after him, repeating his name several times before starting to go after him.

She didn't know what possessed her but something made her reach out for him, her hand catching the crook of his elbow and pulling him back.

"Don't. He's right. You have every right to be angry – all of you. Let him go." She told him quietly, giving his arm a gentle squeeze before suddenly coming to her senses and pulling her hand away like it had been burned. As if that made her actions seem less suspicious...

He nodded curtly, a momentary pause in his gait marking his hesitation before her proceeded into his office to check his messages...

* * *

><p>Her body seemed to cave in from the moment the SUV pulled to a stop outside her mother's house. All afternoon she had tried to talk to Derek but every time she had gotten close he had found some excuse to avoid her. She knew with him perseverance was the key and she was not about to stop trying because of one bad day. That was not to say she wasn't disheartened. Their grievances would make the case more difficult but she valued his friendship and she knew that no amount of shunning would make her give up.<p>

Hotch killed the engine and they sat in silence for a moment before he opened his door, got out of the car and opened her door for her. She smiled weakly as she stepped out and they walked up the steps to the porch together – their bodies close but not touching.

As they reached the porch which was lit by some small lamps in the gradually darkening and finally clear summer night, Hotch couldn't help but feel a little like they were coming to the end of date night – he was the awkward fifteen year old who really wanted to kiss this girl goodnight and she was naturally the unattainable ambassador's daughter whose mother was watching them like a hawk through the curtains. He smiled to himself as he looked up at the house and thought he actually saw the curtains flick back into place.

Emily stopped, dragging the heel of her black court along the wooden slats of the decking which comprised the porch as the awkwardness of this moment washed over them, she had to something to occupy herself. She was physically worn out by the stress of coming back and she wanted nothing more than to lay down with him and to feel his arms encircling her protectively and taking away the hurt she felt. But she knew that this was reality and the reality was they had a real life to be getting on with which diverged in opposite directions – hers with Declan as the mother he had already lost three times and his with Jack, the sole surviving good thing from a marriage filled with turbulence and misunderstanding.

"So..." He murmured after waiting a beat.

"So..." She repeated.

"Should I come in?" He asked and she saw how much the question pained him – she knew she could have taken that pain away – invited him in automatically, but she had chosen not to, instead she had made him suffer by having to ask it.

She drew in a nervous breath before answering: "No... I think it's better that you don't." She replied, hating the strange pressure suddenly on her heart and how cold the sentence seemed.

"Oh...Ok. Sure. No, you're right." He told her not hiding his disappointment.

"Aaron I..." She started but he held up a hand cutting her off.

"It's fine. You _were_ right – the world out here looks very different to the way it did in that bed this morning." He told her and she felt her cheeks reddening at his persistence in reminding her what had happened between them last night and it's continuation into this morning.

"Yes, it does look different – but _you_ don't... _we_ don't. I only meant that you should go home to Jack – he'll be missing you and if we're going on a case tomorrow you should see him. I know how much you miss him when we're away." She told him, offering him a small smile which thankfully he returned.

"You're right – of course you are." He agreed.

"So... we're... good?" She asked nervously.

"We're _very_ good." He told her.

She smiled wider and he fell in love with her all over again. She had that strange power over him and he only wished he could tell her how she made him feel.

"Well... Goodnight Emily." He said instead.

"Goodnight Aaron." She replied, mildly disappointed when he retreated, heading down the steps and towards the car without so much as a peck on the cheek.

* * *

><p>She watched him go, turning towards the door and opening it but thinking better of going in at the very last moment. Instead she headed down the steps and ran a little to catch him up as he walked brusquely to the SUV.<p>

She placed her hand on his shoulder and he turned back towards her, the expression on his face the picture of surprise. She wasted no time in pressing her lips to his – feeling gratified when she felt him returning the kiss, his arms winding around her back and holding her close. The kiss was gentle but had enough depth in it to show them both that this was real.

She pulled away reluctantly after a while and he let her go, their chests heaving mutually.

"I'll see you in the morning." She told him, her voice thick with undeniable lust.

"Yes." He replied because it was all he could muster right now.

"Have a good night Aaron." She smiled, biting her lip suggestively as she walked back towards the steps her heart full as she watched him watching her. "I'll be 'thinking of you' later." She decided to add, because she could and she watched as his eyes flashed.

"You too Emily." He returned his eyes black and his voice communicating his every desire.

As he got back into his car a few minutes later, the vision of her sitting on that bed this morning staring out at the rain so content and beautiful filled his mind and he knew that everything that had happened last night and all those sentiments which had been expressed on this Sunday morning in the middle of a storm which seemed to be symbolic to them, were real. He also knew they were only the beginning...

* * *

><p><strong>Well there it is. However many weeks later and I apologise for that most profusely. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed reading this. I also hope you liked what I did with the end – Derek's reaction, I know there were a few of you who thought his reaction to Emily's return was a little tame in the third chapter. I promised I was setting up something different (because I too believe his reaction would have been stronger – not having watched the new episode I wouldn't know but judging by the spoilers for a certain special someone I could be right) and this is just the start of that – the next chapter is big on the Derek Emily confrontation... with a little Hotch goodness thrown in for good measure and I promise that it will be posted in a more timely fashion. **

**I must apologise also for my complete attack on Elizabeth, you know by now that I usually take a slightly more sympathetic approach to her but I was feeling in a particularly confrontational mood when I wrote the Elizabeth/ Emily showdown and I think it shows how much they still have to work on their relationship. I hope you enjoyed it anyway. **

**To Nik – I hope you can see the parts of this that were inspired by you and that perhaps Emily's reaction to Elizabeth's advice might hold a little resonance to a conversation we had the other day. Love you honey. **

**I have been through this and hope I caught all the edits but if not please forgive me. **

**I'd love to know what you thought of this and whether you want to read more. Your reviews mean so much to me **

**As always thank you for reading. **

**Love, **

**X~Michelle~X **


	7. Fighting for Forgiveness

**Hey everyone :-0**

**I know it's been a really long time since I wrote anything for this story and I realise that there is every chance that you will have forgotten that this story even exists. If however, you can find it in your hearts to forgive my four month absence from all things **_**To Come Home, **_**then this is for you and I mean that with the greatest sincerity. I really have little excuse apart from to say that my studies basically incapacitated my social and virtual worlds and the few of you that have been privy to everything going on really are a testament to that. The good news is that I have a couple of weeks where there's a little time to write so here I am and on that note I dive right back in with as much enthusiasm as I can find for this story and I will say only this, everything I write is inspired by you and I hope that you enjoy it. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. **

**For my beautiful girl **_**Charmony **_**because you have been incredibly brave over the past few days and I am so proud of you, also this is for you because you have been ***_**patiently* **_**reminding me that I need to type faster and because I hope that in your less than sunshiny days, this can bring you some light – love you honey :-)**

* * *

><p><em>~ "The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong" ~ Mahatma Ghandi. <em>

Two weeks. Two weeks of hotheadedness, two weeks of blinding anger and cold-shouldering. Two weeks of deathly silence and he still was not ready to forgive her. The tensions between them had been coiling in his stomach for the length of time that his disquiet with her return had lasted and, in true Derek Morgan style, he was finding that there was only one way to relieve it: A gruelling session in the FBI gym. That was exactly the motivation which had brought him here just an hour after they had landed in the hanger after their latest case in Arizona.

He was feeling pumped, adrenaline was coursing through his veins and for the first time in fourteen days he was starting to feel just a little bit better about himself again. Ever since he had blown up at her on the day of her return to the BAU, the team had looked at him with an undeniable sense of diminished respect. It was virtually undetectable to the undiscerning eye but to Derek himself it was blindly obvious. He had worked with these people for almost nine years and was therefore able to detect the slightest change in their behaviour. It was what made him good at his job, it was the reason why he had been head hunted by other divisions of the Bureau several times in his frankly short but incredibly experienced career and it was the reason that not for the first time, he was considering calling back Agent Dellamato to inform him that he would head up the bomb disposal division in his home state. On all prior occasions the one thing which had stopped him running home to his Mama was the knowledge that however dysfunctional they might have been, he had a family here too. But even that notion had started to slip away, particularly as his one saving grace Penelope Garcia also seemed changed towards him. He supposed he understood why - they were taking his failure to accept Emily Prentiss back so personally, she was a part of their unit and family too – he had just always expected a different balance in their loyalty system. One which favoured him.

As this realisation ran cold in his blood, he amped up the power on the cross trainer he was currently slaving on in order to increase the heat and to banish all notions of the woman who was preventing him from being at his best. After a ten minute stint at this setting, he was beginning to feel better, to relax and he let the music which pounded in his ears wash over him and carry him away...

* * *

><p>She pulled her gym vest over her head and fastened her sneakers before exiting the ladies locker room in hot pursuit of the man who was stoking a fire of infuriation in her very soul. She had had enough. She was a member of this team to and she would be damned if she was going to be made to feel like she didn't belong. She knew she had done wrong and in the two weeks she had been working cases again, she had felt like personally, she had made little progress in the atonement of her sins, but her friends didn't look at her like she was stranger anymore and she felt like it was possible that things could get better. Now she just had to deal with Derek and frankly, she was tired of his cold-shouldered ignorance and blatant pig-headedness and she was going to do something about it. Since talking appeared to be of little use and reasoning with him seemed out of the question, she was willing to meet him on his turf, to do this his way – that didn't mean of course that she would let him win...<p>

* * *

><p>As she made her approach, she began to feel the slightest doubt that this was something that she wanted to do. He was hot headed and she had seen him at his most feral and though she was unsettled at the thought that she could be on the receiving end of his wrath, she knew things couldn't continue the way they currently were. They were a team and they had to start behaving like one or Strauss' threats of the unit's disassembly would become a reality. She would not allow her own actions and the responses of Derek Morgan to be responsible for that. She would not lose her family again, of that she was sure.<p>

He was currently beating the living daylights out of an old and rather tired punch bag, which it seemed had seen many a stressed-out SSA's fist in its time. He wore his headphones and she knew from previous experience that this meant 'back-off,' but still she moved towards him with determination. She was his partner, she understood him and she wanted to remind them both of that. She reached out, her hand closing around his broad shoulder and making that initial contact.

Seeing as how she professed to understand him, she supposed in hindsight that she should have anticipated his next move: A lightening fast spin towards her, followed by his arm flying at her in an attempt to block her offence. She raised her own arm in defence and caught the impact of his blow to her forearm. It had been a mistake to attempt to shield herself in that way since the force of his muscular and powerful arm as it connected with hers almost knocked her off her feet. She braced herself against the pain of his onslaught and waited for him to register who she was and to acknowledge her presence.

His eyes were full of blazing rage as he stared at her, trying to determine the reason behind this surprise. She was the last person he wanted to see right now and her presence had thrown off the benefits he was getting from this excessive workout. In his rage he heard the roaring of his own blood as his body adjusted to the sudden steadiness and this sound seemed to block out not simply the music he had been listening to, but also the words she spoke to him. In fact the only awareness he had of her talking at all was the fact that her lips were moving.

"What?" He asked angrily, pushing his headphones around his neck "is it a case?" It had better not be, the mood he was in, the bastard UNSUB was likely to be ripped limb from limb the second they caught him.

"No there's no case." She spoke quite calmly and this infuriated him. He told her as much by turning himself back towards the gym equipment, but her voice stopped him before he made that first savage punch.

"No there's no case, but there is a problem Derek." She continued as if the rudeness of his body language had had little effect on her. His blood boiled at her use of his first name. He had not shown her that courtesy since the night they had found her in that house and he hated that despite this very deliberate action on his part, she was observing all facets of polite behaviour towards a colleague.

"Is there?" He replied nonchalantly, staring just past her.

"Oh you know there is _Morgan_, I'm just asking you what exactly that is?" She replied, her tone angrier than she would have liked.

"Why would I know_ Prentiss_?" He mimicked her tone.

"Oh I don't know Derek? Maybe because you've been acting like an ass for the past two weeks. So tell me what is it about this that you can't handle – is it my being back? Is it that I betrayed you or is it worst of all, that I'm a lying, spying whore?" She asked referring to all the ways she imagined she had offended Derek Morgan.

"I'm not doing this now. I am not talking to you about this." He barked.

"I'm not asking you to talk Morgan, but we are going to do this – this ends tonight one way or another because we can't work together like this. So come on let's do this." She told him, stepping back a bit into an open space. He looked at her quizzically but said nothing as he watched her stretch out her fingers in apparent anticipation of a fight.

"Well come on. Let's you and me go at it – right here, right now." She told him, even her tone fighting. He looked utterly bewildered and she smiled at this small victory. She knew exactly what was running through his head and honestly, it was good to see that he still had a little of the old Derek in him.

"I'm serious. You don't wanna talk? Fine. I'm not much of a touchy-feely-crap type of girl anyway. So meet me halfway – let's do this your way. Let's settle this like a couple of buddies fighting over the same girl on a Saturday night. I know you're just dying to use those fists on me, I can see it in your eyes. Oh yeah... You wanna hit me don't you? Hell you floored me once already, why not have another go?" She goaded and he seemed to react to something she had said because in a matter of seconds he had de-gloved and was heading towards the exit.

* * *

><p>"You really think I'd want to hurt you Emily?" He asked sadly, turning towards her at the last minute.<p>

"I don't know. We don't know each other anymore right?"

"You know me, _I'm_ not the one who changed, who lied." He blazed, spinning back towards her.

"Aha! So that is what this is about? You think I've changed too much." She seemed triumphant.

"Hell yes you've changed! There is nothing about any of this which is remotely like the person that I know. Rational, careful, thoughtful – someone who had my respect. This was reckless, this was stupid."

"What was? Trying to protect you – to protect my family? Forgive me Derek, but that is a very 'Emily Prentiss' type of thing to do, even if I do say so myself." She replied, using her fingers as speech marks to emphasise her own name.

"I get that, I get the protection thing... What I don't get is... You know what it doesn't matter anyway, I'm done with trying to figure it out." He admitted defeat and she finally understood.

This wasn't about her betrayal of the team, this wasn't about the lies she had told in their interest. For Derek, this was about the betrayal she had subjected herself to. He couldn't handle the fact that she had more than one identity, an identity he didn't understand.

"You know what Derek, I finally understand. You don't hate me do you? You hate Lauren Reynolds right?" She asked and her tone was sad, expressing all the regret she truly felt.

"Don't make this about her, this is about this team and about you not being honest with_ me_. I'm your partner damn it." His hand connected with her shoulder in much the same way it would have if she had been a wall. Even his open hand could inflict great force and as she jolted backwards, he seemed to come to his senses and immediately recoiled.

"I'm..." He started but she held up her hand to stop him.

"Don't be weak Derek, I hurt you. I don't blame you for wanting to return that."

"You're provoking me, I won't do this Emily – I'm not going to hurt you." He told her.

"Well since you wouldn't talk to me, I thought I'd better try getting through to you some other way."

"Oh and you thought I'd want to fight you?"

"I thought you'd give me the chance to prove myself to you." She replied.

"So do it."

"How?" She asked desperately.

"Tell me why."

"Why what?" She looked confused.

"Why you _whorred_ yourself to _him_." He told his anger piquing in an emotional note to his voice.

"_Whorred _myself? How dare you? You know nothing about how things were." She spat, smacking her hands against his chest firmly, trying to create some distance between them.

"You're right, I don't. So tell me. Or does this partner thing really mean so little to you?" He asked, advancing on her and making her back away until she hit the wall. "Come on Princess, you're in corner, how're you going to get out?" He asked, trying to provoke the high spirited Emily Prentiss he knew and respected into existence again.

"By fighting." She practically yelled, lunging forward and throwing her body weight against him until he was thrown off balance and they landed in an awkward heap on the mats.

* * *

><p>"Lauren Reynolds... Never existed, not really..." She told him, her breathing already heavy with the over exertion of trying to keep him pinned. She had forgotten how strong he was and it was refreshing to see this side of him again.<p>

"But that doesn't mean that her experiences didn't happen to me..."

"What does that even mean?" He asked, practically throwing her off of him. She hit the mat with a heavy slap.

"It means Derek that I couldn't be an object. I'm human, I felt what she felt – I was who she was..." She told him flipping herself from the mat and heading towards him again.

"So you loved him, is that what you're saying?"

"Listen to me Derek, Ian Doyle wasn't a man who it was possible to love and I promise you that_ I_ never loved him. I was in a relationship with him that's all." She promised ardently.

They were wrestling again and Emily sensed that rather than wrestling with each other, they were wrestling with the concepts of truth and deception and she thought somehow that her truths were starting to win him over. That was until she found herself pinned beneath him.

"How am I supposed to trust you Emily, when I can't be sure who you are?" He sounded saddened as he asked this question. She tried to free herself but his body was pressed tightly against hers and she couldn't move.

"Come on Derek, look at me. You of all people know me. I'm your partner." She told him simply and only after his eyes were locked onto hers did she begin to feel his grip on her wrists release...

* * *

><p>Penelope sat in her bunker tossing handfuls of popcorn into her mouth as she prepared leave for the night by doing her routine check of all the CCTV cameras on the main frame. She always experienced dual sensations when checking the footage, fear was her predominant emotion as she was always concerned that she was going to find an UNSUB roaming the corridors, but there was always another sensation, that of excitement. She checked the time – a little after eight. Perfect. This was the time when like clockwork, she could switch to the gym on the basement floor and get a wondrous view of her Chocolate God flexing those muscles as part of his strenuous and gruelling circuit. As she switched to camera thirty three, she expected to see him finishing his fifteen minute stint with the weights he liked to end his workout with. This view would have greatly pleased her, particularly as he was usually shirtless by this point, but the image presented to her was very different. Derek <em>was<em> in the gym but he was not working out and he was not alone.

His body was pressed firmly to the ground and beneath him, wedged in and struggling was Emily Prentiss. It looked like she and her Hot Stuff were fighting and she knew it could only end in tears. The two of them were firm friends, they were partners and they looked like they were about to kill each other. Whilst trying not to choke on her popcorn, Penelope's fingers blindly reached for her phone keypad, entering Hotch's speed dial by instinct. It rang for a couple seconds before he answered.

"Garcia?"

"Hey boss man there might be a little problem down at the gym."

"A problem? What kind of problem ?" He asked concernedly.

"Um... What if I said Morgan and Prentiss were... 'tussling'?" She asked, trying to think of a kinder way to put it. She waited for his reaction but was met with only the blank dial tone...

* * *

><p>"She's gone Derek... Lauren Reynolds is gone now." Emily insisted as she struggled against her friend and partner.<p>

"How can I be sure?" He asked aggressively and for a moment, she wasn't sure how to answer him. She didn't have much aside from her own word and she knew for a man like Derek, that wouldn't count for much now.

"Derek I don't know what else to say, I don't know how many more times I can say I'm sorry before you believe me." She told him dejectedly, giving up on the fighting spirit she had entered the gym with.

"I don't need you to say you're sorry, any fool can see you're sorry. What I need is a guarantee that you'll never hide something like this from me again, you're my partner and I need to know that when we're in the field and we've got a hundred commands in our ears, the one thing I can count on is that you have my back. Since you already lied once I don't know how you're going to make that assurance to me, I honestly don't know if you can and I hate to say that to you but _I_ have to be honest." He told her and with this defeated admittance he released her. She took advantage of this, reversing their positions in a matter of seconds.

"Derek, don't ever think that you can't trust me to always have your back. That's one thing you can always be sure of. As to all the other stuff between us, I can't change the past but I can amend it now. Ian Doyle is dead, Lauren Reynolds is dead. All my secrets are dead. There is nothing else to hide from you and that is me being honest. I will never hold anything back from you again... Well maybe I can have some omissions... the date of my 'monthly visitations' for example." She laughed a little awkwardly, her cheeks reddening as she tried to bring about some humour.

He was quiet for a moment during which he huffed out some pent up tension before he spoke, "Come on Princess, give a guy some credit – you think I don't know when you're 'PMSing?" He chuckled a little and she socked him in the shoulder.

"So what d'you say Derek can you find it in your heart to forgive me?" She asked and suddenly they were back to the serious stuff again.

"Well..." He began to reply but the stern voice of their superior put a halt to their reconciliatory efforts.

* * *

><p>"Morgan, Prentiss – That is enough!" His voice was hard and commanding as if he dared them to continue fighting like they were in the school yard.<p>

"Sir." Emily murmured her respect, trying to stifle the slight giggle which threatened to escape. She just wished her mind wasn't so damned set on imagining him using that commanding tone with her in the bedroom.

After a short time during which she and Derek seemed to come to a silent conclusion that it would be better to follow his orders than to face his wrath, Emily pushed herself up and stood above Derek, who lay gratifyingly well-exerted on the mats beneath the gazes of his two colleagues.

"So? Are we Ok?" Emily dared to venture, trying desperately to quell the hope in the pit of her stomach. As the words left her lips, she extended her hand to him, hoping that he would at least take it as a sign of some professional truce.

Derek hesitated for only a second before he put his hand in hers and allowed her to help him up, "yeah we're Ok Princess." He smiled, using the leverage her hold on him had created to pull her into a swift embrace. As they pulled apart, they both became aware of Hotch's presence and stood awkwardly like a chastised pair of sweethearts. Hotch's eyes moved back and forth between them as he were watching a tennis match as he silently expressed his suspicions and she hardly dared to look him in the face, so blazing was the anger which radiated from his very being.

"I should write the two of you up right now, you should be suspended with immediate effect and would be if Strauss were here. Fortunately for you, she's still on leave and in her absence it falls to me to deal with matters of internal unrest. Frankly your behaviour over the past couple of weeks has been unacceptable and has really been affecting the team dynamic. I have been trying to come up with a solution to this situation for some time and short of moving one or the other of you to a new unit, I was drawing a blank. However, in light of tonight's events I think we can settle for a less drastic warning... I am right in assuming everything is Ok here now?" He paused for a minute, only the slightest suggestion of anger in his voice. The two of them nodded and murmured words in the affirmative before he continued. "Well then I think we can put this down to 'teething' problems and move on. Are we all agreed that this is over?" He asked and again the two agents could only nod like hapless children.

"Good, well I won't warn you again." He told them brusquely before with an almost imperceptible swish of his expensively tailored jacket he was gone, leaving his lover tightly wound and hotter for him than she had ever been, standing beside a bemused looking Derek Morgan.

* * *

><p>She opened and closed her fists as she tried to alleviate the dull ache already spreading throughout her muscles. She let a slow breath escape as she tried to calm herself. Her nerves were jumping, today had been strange all round. She had been successful in getting Derek back on side but in the process she had probably pissed off her lover and she really wasn't sure which was worse. Mad Derek or mad Aaron? She knew which would have more long term ramifications, she just wondered what she could do to make it better. As she was pondering this, she heard a brief knock at the door and suddenly it didn't seem like such a mystery anymore.<p>

* * *

><p>"Emily?" He called from his position on the other side of the door as he checked for the presence of any other women in the locker room. <em>"Are you decent?" <em>The words echoed in his mind and he couldn't help but think back to that time some years ago when she had been the bait in the viper case and he had wanted nothing more than to rip her haphazardly buttoned shirt off in this very room.

"For you?" She asked playfully "always." She finished and was rewarded when she heard the door open...

She turned towards him the second she heard the door close and smiled when she managed to glean the precise reaction she had hoped for from her man.

"Emily!" He protested but she saw no attempt on his part to avert his eyes from the very special greeting she had planned for him.

"Well I did say _for you_ didn't I?" She asked, walking towards him in all her exposed glory.

"Come on Emily, anyone could walk in... anyone could see."

"Mm... Now see this... all of this..." She paused, pressing her bare chest against his shirt in a rather arousing manner "is just for you." She told him, stealing a possessive kiss before he could object.

"You know," he mused as he toyed with the waistband of her sweatpants "I just came from stripping Morgan down for all this tonight and..." he went to continue but her wit intercepted him.

"Oh you stripped him down did you Agent Hotchner?" She quipped playfully, " So what... you thought you'd... come in and strip me down too?" She asked hopefully, moving her body closer to his.

"Actually..." He breathed close to her ear "No. I came here to ask you what you were thinking of." He told her, very tempted to go with option 'a' when his fingers brushed against the soft skin of her lower back. She was silent as she looked at the floor, chewing her lip as she tried to come up with a viable answer.

"Emily?" He asked, lifting her chin with his finger.

"Search me... It seemed like a good idea at the time but now...My shoulder hurts like Hell." She let out a nervous giggle as she waited for his reaction.

"Did Morgan hurt you?" He asked, his voice blazing with anger.

"Come on Aaron, you saw us – we were equally responsible, I held my own too you know." She replied in jest.

" I have no doubt of that." He chuckled as he twisted her around and his fingers found the exact spot where her muscle was spasming. She let out a low sigh as his fingers worked the spot a little.

"Is that where it is?" He asked in his statement low growl.

"Uh huhhh" She groaned.

"Ok..." he pulled away from her and she turned her head to look at him in surprise "get dressed Emily." His tone was almost cold.

"What?"

"I'm taking you home."

"What? No... it's out of your way and Jess will be waiting and it's not practical with work and..."

"I'm not asking you Emily, now come on" he insisted picking up her gym vest and helping her into like she was a child "I'm taking you home." He repeated and this time she could do nothing to argue.

* * *

><p>He held her around the waist as they walked towards the door. This gesture was not intended to be possessive, but rather to show her that he was there. He only hoped she appreciated this decidedly presumptive invasion into her personal space as much as he appreciated her closeness.<p>

Although she was neither sick not particularly tired, she felt her body begin to relax against his, almost leaning on him as if the strength of his frame substituted for her sincere lack thereof. She stepped away from him only to enter the security code to her building and immediately resumed that initial stance as they proceeded into the lobby. Despite this, she was quite prepared for him to leave now, she almost expected it, it was his fulfilment of their unspoken agreement but his grip on her did not loosen and suddenly she was overcome by an overwhelming need for his presence. Instead of commenting on his choice, she stayed silent as he followed her into the elevator. It felt nice, right even, for him to be there and she couldn't help the smile which crept onto her mouth as she leant her head against his shoulder and felt his lips brush against her neck.

It was only as she slid her key into the lock that she started to doubt whether having him here was a good idea at all. As she pushed open the door and they entered, she became immediately alerted to the other person she had to always consider first in any situation, Declan. She turned to her lover, her lip instinctively curled between her teeth as was her nervous habit, as she tried to figure out how to say what she needed to without hurting him.

"Um Aaron, maybe we should..." She paused, searching for the right words and he took advantage of this momentary silence.

"Emily he's not a child... I mean well technically he is of course, but what I meant was you shouldn't underestimate him. He knows that we're in a relationship and if he hasn't said anything to the contrary so far, then I think he's telling you that he's Ok with it – with me." He tried to soothe her.

"Oh and when did you become such an authority on the subject?" She teased as she tossed her go-bag carelessly to one side in an attempt to convey a feeling of nonchalance. Tonight was the first time either one of them had ventured into the realms of labelling what they were doing and it made her simultaneously flustered and yet in possession of a fuzzy feeling inside. He had been so casual about it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to call what they had a relationship so early on. She liked that. 'Relationship' was good, 'relationship' was meaningful and serious and that was exactly the way she felt about him. Serious.

"Well maybe you've forgotten or perhaps I'm just too much of a man now to warrant those thoughts, but some time ago – don't ask me how long – I was in fact a fifteen year old boy." He chuckled as she made a big show of exaggerating her response to this.

"Oh really?" She dragged out the last word as she pressed a suggestive kiss to his still laughing mouth. "I'd never have known if you hadn't told me." She finished sarcastically as they walked to the kitchen to greet the boy who had so quickly become her son.

* * *

><p>Declan was busy finishing what could only have been a paper as they entered, but the second that they did he abandoned it in favour of greeting the woman he hadn't seen in four days.<p>

"Hey Em!" The words rushed out excitedly as he bounded towards her as she had so often seen him do as an infant, his arms wrapping around her neck as she pulled him close. Whilst he kept reminding her of that angelic little boy, she wasn't complaining. Being here with him now, able to feel him in her embrace and to know that he was finally safe made everything seem worthwhile.

"Hey." She purred almost like Sergio did when he was being fussed over by one or the other of them. She supposed it had to do with the comfort of someone always being here when she got home off a case.

After a while, he let her go and pulled away somewhat awkwardly as he became aware of Agent Hotchner's presence. "Oh hello Agent Hotchner." He murmured, still not sure of how much this man knew or would conceal about the events of _that_ night. Despite the fact that Emily had chosen him to be a part of her life and clearly trusted him, Declan couldn't help but think back to how scared she had been at the thought of being discovered by her team and he felt duty bound to protect her, even if it was from a man she clearly had feelings for.

"Hello Declan, it's good to see you again and please, I've told you before – it's Aaron, or at least Hotch if you'd prefer." He tried to smile, despite the slightly suspicious eyes of the boy.

"Ok." He conceded, looking away in embarrassment.

"So, how was it this time with 'the demon ambassador?" Emily joked, watching their interaction closely and feeling her heart swell with pride when she noticed Declan 'puffing up his feathers' for her.

"I told you Em, I like her. It was fine. I asked her to drop me off before you got back so I'd be here when you got home." He replied, laughter sparkling in his eyes. He honestly didn't know why Emily made such a fuss over Elizabeth, she seemed sweet – or at least she always was with him.

"Great, so how was school?" She asked, continuing their evening routine.

"Fine. I got an A+ on my paper..." He dropped in the grade like it meant little to him, there was something off in his demeanour.

"Hey what is it?" She asked and she noticed his heavy sigh. Once again she had perceived what he had been trying to hide.

"It's just... Well d'you think getting good grades makes me a loser Emily?"

"What? No. Of course not. Why would you think that? Was it Stuart again?" She asked, her anger inspiring her quick fire questions and even quicker defence of his grade.

He winced and that was all the answer she needed. "What did I tell you about Stuart hmm?" She asked, resting her hands on his shoulders.

"Not to listen to him." He mumbled, knowing that it was true, Stuart was just a mean kid and it wasn't as if he hadn't dealt with those before. He guessed there was just something about the way he constantly jeered at him that struck a chord somewhere deeper than Jimmy McGovern's gang had ever reached.

"That's right. It's just jealousy that's all. I think you're amazing, we all do. Remember you have a team of profilers on your side and what do they say about profilers?" She asked, waiting for his response.

"Only that they're the coolest people on Earth!" He told her enthusiastically and she to smile at his boyish reply. She knew how much he respected their work and that made her proud, like she had a new reason to do a good job. Someone to impress.

"Right and we have a certifiable genius in our ranks so you have nothing to worry about – Welcome to the cool crew." She told him, engaging him in a spontaneous and completely improvised secret handshake.

"Thanks Em." He smiled.

"No problem, now you be as proud of yourself as I am of you Ok?" She soothed, brushing a little kiss against his forehead.

"Ok. So did you get 'em?" He asked after a while.

"Hmm?"

"The UNSUB did you get 'em?" He asked again.

"Declan..." She paused and her tone was warning. She didn't even have to go on for him to catch her drift.

"Ok, Ok I know. I'm not supposed to ask."

"You understand why I can't tell you what we deal with right?"

"Mm hmm, because I am Declan son of the devil and you don't want me getting ideas..." He laughed and she pushed away her panic to laugh along with him.

"Well I wouldn't push it that far, but you are... my son" she hesitated on that word for a minute and felt mildly awkward, until she saw the smile spread across his face "and I don't want you worrying yourself about what we do Ok? As long as you're safe that's all that matters, so let me worry about the UNSUBs of this world and you worry about oh I don't know, Melissa Sanford..." Her eyes flashed with mischief as she saw him blush slightly at the mention of the name.

"So... Do you guys want something to eat? I made pasta..." He tried to change the subject and she caught him.

"Ah not so keen to talk now are you?" She quipped and he reddened further.

"Emily let the poor boy be." Hotch laughed as he gripped her shoulder, pressing ever so slightly on her tender muscle and reminding her of why he was here in the first place.

"See those are the joys of living with a profiler my friend, no secrets..." Emily laughed as Declan looked gratefully towards Aaron.

"So I guess you guys are just going to '_hang out'_ in your bedroom then right?" He retorted playfully, making air quotation marks with his fingers in the appropriate place and giving her a taste of her own medicine.

It was Emily's turn to blush crimson and since her lover was not quick enough to cover for them, he accompanied her blush with a nervous cough which sounded strangled in his throat.

"Um actually, I threw my shoulder out during a workout and Aaron's just going to look at it for me that's all." She replied when she had recovered enough.

"Oh... Right... Sure." He teased. Emily looked as if she was about to say something further, but seemed to think better of it at the last minute.

"Well kids... Of you go then... Just don't do anything I wouldn't do." He winked and they scuttled from the room like a couple of teenagers caught canoodling.

* * *

><p>She groaned and collapsed against the door the minute it closed and Aaron couldn't help but laugh at her.<p>

"I am mortified." She grumbled, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. "He thinks we're in here... well _you know_." She hung her head and he couldn't stop laughing.

"Well then it's a good thing we won't be... 'y_ou knowing'_ then isn't it?" He chortled.

She looked up at him in surprise and if he could've framed that expression he would have. "We won't?" She asked and disappointment was the only thing he could hear.

"Nope. You threw you shoulder out and I wouldn't want my athleticism to add to your strife." He teased. "Besides... You've been very naughty Agent Prentiss and naughty girls don't get treats, they get sent straight to bed. Now come here." He instructed, his tone commanding. She did as he bade and stood beside him waiting for his next instruction.

"Right, we have to do something about this shoulder of yours – we can't have you coming into work without the function of your arm now can we?"

"I don't know, I could skip one case for medical reasons couldn't I? You could say you have horrendous amounts of paper work, we could lock ourselves in your office and we'd be set for a week." She suggested somewhat optimistically.

"Mm...that sounds idyllic but hardly practical, now stop stalling and get that vest off." She loved the authoritative tone he took with her.

"I thought you didn't want to get frisky tonight." She teased, pulling it over her head.

"Just because I asked you to take off your vest, does not mean I have changed my mind." He laughed. "Now, get on the bed." It was maddening for him to dismiss her advance in this way. All through the journey here the realisation that she was braless was driving him crazy, but somehow he maintained a mask and waited for her to obey. She did and laid there beneath his searing gaze as she waited for his next move.

"On your front Agent Prentiss." His tone was still lilting.

"Oh come on! What're made of steel or something?" She grumbled as he began to manipulate her into the correct position.

"It has been known... On occasion." He murmured kissing her swiftly and going back on his own sentiment before flipping her over.

"You're seriously telling me that I'm offering you a plate of all your favourite things and you don't want it?" She muttered.

"No that isn't what I'm telling you at all, what I'm saying is I have my priorities straight and right now my priority is your shoulder." He told her as he moved to straddle her slightly and his fingertips began applying pressure to her tender muscle.

"So you don't think that my breasts are worth _any_ of your attention?" She sounded offended.

"I'll remind you that your breasts always receive plenty of my attention Emily." He told her, his voice sounding dangerous as she realised that she was working him into a state of frenzy. Perfect.

"Huh." She puffed out the word "that's funny I can't recall..." She broke off when he applied extra pressure and she groaned, biting down on her pillow to control the pain.

"Want to rethink that?" He offered her a reprieve.

"Asshole." She mumbled almost imperceptibly. Almost.

"I'm sorry what that was?" He asked.

"I said this is a wonderful massage." She replied with laughter in her voice.

"Ah I thought that's what you said." He smiled in victory.

* * *

><p>She had to admit that whilst this was hardly comfortable, after twenty minutes she was starting to feel like the knot in her shoulder was easing. In fact the only problem now that she was so tightly wound, she was sure to get herself even more twisted up. She supposed it was the friction that he was creating every time he leant in closer to her and used those wonderful fingers on her tense body. After a while, she became restless, not least because his hands had begun to gravitate from her shoulders. She let out a moan of frustrated pleasure as he caressed the delicate protrusion of her spine.<p>

"Better?" He asked in his rolling timbre.

"No." She replied resolutely.

"No?" He seemed mildly concerned.

"No." She repeated shifting beneath him until she rolled onto her side and finally she managed to be facing him. "Please." She begged desperately, biting her lip seductively in that way she knew he found hard to resist.

"Make love to me." She breathed, not even bothering to disguise her wanton desires.

He said nothing for a moment, but leant towards her, his mouth possessing hers dominantly as he fought with himself, fought with his own restraint.

"Hmm I don't think one night is going to kill you Emily." He told her before he stood and left her lying there.

* * *

><p>"Where are you going now?" She pouted.<p>

"I'm going to run you a bath of course." He told her, disappearing into the en-suite. She heard him clambering about in the room, probably deciding which product to add to the water.

After a few moments during which she could hear the water running, he rejoined her back in the bedroom.

"So uh, are you going to do something about those?" He asked signalling to her sweatpants.

"Something?" She asked, standing and walking towards him. "Oh..._ Oh _you mean... this sort of something right?" She clarified as she flicked the drawstring on the pants and let the loose material pool at her feet.

He made no answer but his bodily reaction was enough for her. He may have been doing an excellent impression of his poker face, but she was a profiler after all and there was no secret he could hide. Of course the slightly tented front of his pants was a dead giveaway.

"I guess these should go too right?" She asked, her fingers already looping into the edges of her dark lacy panties. She flashed him her best cattish smile as she sashayed towards the bathroom.

* * *

><p>"Are <em>you<em> sure _you_ don't want to change your mind Aaron?" She asked tipping her head to the side and mimicking his earlier words.

"It's tempting..."

"So join me." She offered as they walked together towards the bathroom.

"Mm... You are _beautiful_, do you know that?" He told her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and guiding her towards the bath tub.

"Smooth change of subject there Agent Hotchner. What is it? Am I wholly undesirable tonight or something?"

"Of course not, _I always want you" _he assured her in a sensual whisper, " it's just... I have Jack to get back to." He finished and as she stepped into the bath alone, she knew it was true.

* * *

><p>He sat on the edge of the tub as she sank into the bubbles, watching her close her eyes as a smile of contentment settled over her perfect features.<p>

"You see, this is a treat just for you."

"I thought bad girls don't get treats." She quipped.

"Maybe you're not so bad." He smiled his rare and wonderful smile.

"Ah but I could be if you gave me half a chance." She gave him a glittering and mischievous smile.

"I know that too." He returned, very close to tearing his hair out right now – the frustration and tension was killing him.

"So_ give_ me a chance." She continued to press him as she rose up out of the water, eager for his kiss and his touch.

"I would love to, I really would it's just Garcia has a new case for us in the morning and we'll be flying out by midday, I need to see Jack – you need to spend time with Declan."

"Uh, I wish..." She started but thought better of it.

"What? What do you wish?" He asked softly, brushing a tendril of her hair behind her ear.

"Oh I don't know, I just kind of wish it didn't have to be one or the other. I wish we didn't have to compromise between being here or at your place. I know it's early on but in our situation we're out of town too much to be worried about ferrying back and forth. Couldn't we...? Oh God, I'm going to completely scare you off now aren't I?" She laughed awkwardly.

"Not at all. I like hearing you talk about this." He told her.

"So, what do you think?"

"I think... We need to talk about this some more, that doesn't mean that I think it's a bad idea, I just think we need to sit down, the four of us and discuss it – is that Ok?" He asked watching her reaction closely.

"Yes, I think you're right, of course you are, but do you really have to go right now? Couldn't you spare ten minutes?" She asked playfully.

"Ten minutes?" His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline as he took offence.

"Ok twenty..." She laughed making another attempt to pull him towards the water like a mystical Danish mermaid.

"One night Emily, it's only one night." He soothed, knowing how much his abstinence, even for the night would affect them both after he had gone.

* * *

><p>"Alright... Alright go, I understand... but I hope you understand it'll be your loss Aaron, I mean it's warm and soapy and...<em>wet<em> in here." She smiled a challenging smile.

"Oh trust me I know." He agreed with her.

"Well as long as you do." She pouted grumpily.

"Enjoy your bath Emily."

"I intend to, it'll be just me and my very realistic fantasy lover." She winked.

"Careful, you really don't want to make me jealous."

"Of yourself?" She laughed. "You are quite something Aaron Hotchner." She continued.

"As are you Emily Prentiss." He replied getting up.

"So now you're even keeping kisses from me?"

"One kiss." He told her, knowing that she had ulterior motives.

"Make it a good one." She smiled as her soapy hand came to rest on his cheek as he leaned over her.

"Emily I..." His voice was full of emotion and she drew in a deep breath as she waited for it, the moment, the thing she was finally ready to hear. "I'll see you tomorrow... Goodnight." He told her, checking his emotions again.

"Oh um... Sure. Of course. Goodnight Aaron." She told him, sinking back against the tub as she watched him go.

As she listened to his retreat she went over and over that moment again and again and she concluded that she had definitely heard the words on the brink of being spoken if they hadn't been actually vocalised. She surmised as she tried to relax that it was just another thing to add to her list of things to do in this relationship, now she had to figure out why he had suddenly developed the same 'three little words' complex she seemed to have.

* * *

><p>As he headed towards the door, Aaron wished he had been able to say it. It had been two weeks and on the very first night they had been together he had wanted to say it. Now he had just left her in the bath tub probably feeling completely unwanted and underappreciated. He was contemplating going back in there but he didn't want her to feel like it was something he was saying because he had to, he wanted to tell her because he wanted to and he really did. Instead he carried on towards the door but was stopped by Declan's voice.<p>

"You know, you could stay if you wanted to. She'd like that. I think she needs to know that your relationship is two way. She likes staying at your place but I think she'd like to wake up and have you here every now and then." He sounded wise beyond his years and suddenly he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

"I think I needed to hear that. I have Jack tonight but I'll bare it in mind, would you tell her... you know what, tell I said 'sleep well and I'll see her tomorrow." He replied as Declan got up to show him out.

"I will...Aaron. See you again soon?"

"Sure you will. Goodnight Declan."

"Night." He replied as he closed the door, satisfied that he might just have planted a thought, a thought which could make Emily very happy indeed...

* * *

><p><strong>Ok so there it is – finally! I hope you enjoyed it and will feel free to let me know what you thought, reviews are like my sustenance and they also serve to remind me that I have to update this. I think this one took a little bit of a different tone because I wanted to address the issue I left it hanging on in the last chapter which was to play out Derek's acceptance or apparent lack thereof of Emily's return. I hope I did that justice. As to the Declan, Hotch and Emily sections I treated this as a kind of filler for the big events I'm planning to write over the next couple of chapters and after this slightly unusual two-big-chapters- formation, I think I will alternate between 'filler' and 'main event' until the end which I think will shake you all up... it'll be unexpected to say the least. <strong>

**Now I have uni and all the craziness associated with this, but during the twenty odd hours I spend on the train I plan to keep plugging away at the next part which I think will also be a bit different so look out for that just as soon as I can get it out. **

**I have been through this and I think I caught all the edits but if not please forgive me. **

**Thank you all for your reviews, subscriptions, alerts and favourites – they remind me that you are enjoying this in the way that I am. **

**Thanks for continuing to read despite my sporadic updates. **

**Love you all, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	8. Emotions

**Hello lovely people... **

**I know, I know it must be a miracle because here I am with another chapter already... :-). I wanted to say thank you for all your reviews, I know I haven't thanked you all in person yet I feel bad, but I have been so busy that all I've had time for is to write this so I will get around those replies a.s.a.p I hope you like it and will let me know what you think. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics. **

**Happy reading.**

* * *

><p><em>"<em>_Feelings are not supposed to be logical. Dangerous is the man who has rationalized his emotions__"~ David Borenstein._

Her head was thrown back against the pillows and the spaghetti strap of her white negligee was haphazardly caught at her elbow. Her lip was firmly curled between her teeth as she tried to contain the scream her ecstasy was causing deep within her, but this moment was rare - they were completely alone and could therefore enjoy their passions in full vigour. As she slid her fingers into the short hair of her lover, she could tell that he most definitely was.

His hot tongue caressed the very depths of her cavern and her hidden desires pulsated around him. She knew that he was driven on by her responses and she loved that in this way she controlled him, but the intensity of the climax he was fast drawing her to was almost too much to bear and she began to shift restlessly beneath his attentions. After several long seconds his ministrations ceased and he stared up at her with a wicked grin.

"You know if you want something Emily, you only have to ask." He told her in a calm and collected tone.

She stared back at him with tormented and defiant eyes but she recognised that he was not going to give her the release she craved unless she asked him. As much as she hated to think that she was so easily controlled by him, her need for fulfilment was greater than any sense of pride she could pretend to. Therefore, instead of fighting him, she batted her eyelashes and played up to his mastery of her.

"Please Agent Hotchner... Please take me." She begged "make me happy." She continued ,jerking her hips upwards to illustrate just how that could be achieved. "Make me come for you Aaron." She told him, giving him the license and permission she knew he no longer needed.

There was just something about the way that she had said those words, their sheer carnal nature mixed with the tenderness and personality of her use of his first name which hit him somewhere deep inside and spurred him into action.

He reached between them, his fingers slipping with ease into her warm and waiting channel as he waited for the signs of release to overcome her. It did not take long, as he curled his fingers within her he felt her violently spasm and then she was expressing her pleasure and satisfaction in the most unguarded and sensual way he had ever heard and he fell even more deeply in lust with her...

* * *

><p>She lay spent after the earth shattering high she had just ridden and she stroked at his hair with absent minded affection. Soon, she felt him move though she would have happily consented to have him stay exactly as he was with his head resting on her stomach in an attitude of complete calmness. Nevertheless, she was unsurprised as he kissed his way up her body until their lips met.<p>

"You are amazing." He told her, feeling the need to say those words, if for no other reason than simply to remind her of how incredible he thought she was.

"Hmm and you are a wicked, wicked man!" She laughed.

"Yes and I'd love to show just how wicked I can be but I am very, very late..." He told her with regret.

"So you're just going to leave?" She sounded disgruntled. "Had your fill is that it?" She asked sarcastically.

"It isn't like that Emily, it's just I'm late for coaching Jack's team, you know that's all this is about." He tried to soothe but in the tension between them, he sensed that he had gone and said the wrong thing again.  
>"Is it?" She deadpanned turning away from him and adjusting her strap to fill the awkwardness. "Fine, fine if that's what it is then you go." She tried to smile but it failed miserably when coupled with the squeaky high pitch of her voice as she fought her emotions.<p>

"If you think I'm leaving things like this between us then you're crazy. So come on, why don't we talk about what you think this is about." He told her in a level voice and she felt like a child being forced to explain herself.

"Don't mock me Aaron." She replied quietly, sitting up and circling her arms around her knees defensively.

"I'm not mocking you, I just want to hear what's on your mind." He replied, his hand sitting on her knee.

"Well..." She hesitated a moment before continuing "it's just that sometimes I wonder, is this it for us?" She finished after a moment and he felt a rising panic ensue.

"Is what it for us?" He urged her to elaborate.

"Well you know, the physical stuff... Sex. We've been together almost three months and I can't tell if I'm supposed to think of this as serious or whether this is just about the satisfaction of being together. I mean you're here all the time but I've only ever woken up to you actually being here in the morning twice. I know that it's not your intention, but it's how I feel." She broke off and he looked utterly shocked.

"Emily I had no idea that you felt that way, I am so sorry. I guess I just feel like when I'm with you I don't have to be anybody but myself, I'm not Agent Hotchner, I'm not SSAIC and I'm not daddy. I'm just Aaron. When everyone else wants a piece of me I know that you just accept me and I never stopped to consider that maybe I don't tell you how much it means to be with you."

She was silent as she contemplated what he had said. Whilst most of it had been sentimental, there was a slight edge in his voice which struck her on deep level. So he didn't feel like she wanted a piece of him. She wasn't sure how well that sat with her. They were in a relationship and surely that entitled her to make some demand on his commitments. Of course she wanted something from him - she wanted his love, she wanted the knowledge that she was the only person he wanted.

"Aaron I think you should know, I do want something from you - I want your heart. I want everything that you are, I don't want you to hide any part of yourself from me." She told him. She didn't think that these were particularly unreasonable to ask for, they were things that she deserved if they were going to have a real relationship.  
>"You have those things Emily, they don't belong to anyone but you - I thought you understood that."<p>

"So why is it that we still haven't talked this over with the boys? We should be open with them. Jack's hardly naïve Aaron." She told him and he knew that it was true.

He honestly couldn't justify by any real means what was stopping him from merging his two worlds together - the world in which he was daddy and the world in which he was Aaron - the partner, the lover, the man in love. It wasn't because of any misguided loyalty to the anti-fraternisation rules, they could be worked around, neither was it that he didn't have feelings for her. He did and wanted to tell her about them more than anything but something acted as a block. As he sat there and really thought about it, suddenly it didn't seem like such a mystery. He was afraid, that was the truth. He was terrified that the moment he let his guard down she would leave and he didn't want to suffer heartache like that again.

"Why can't I get up, go get Declan from his 'study-over' and then we'll join you at the game?" She asked, the plan solidifying in her mind as she determined that she would use whatever means necessary to get him to include her in his life in a role which extended beyond the bedroom.

"Emily... It's just a school soccer team, you don't want to be standing on the sidelines all morning when you could be using your free time doing something you want to do." He tried to provide an excuse which she would buy into but her expression told him that he had failed miserably.

"You don't want me there do you?" She asked sadly.

"That's not true at all, it's just that it's a school event, a match against the neighbouring school so everyone... all the parents..." He tried to justify but she cut across him.

"Ah I see, now it makes sense, you don't want people gossiping about the new bit on your arm do you?" She asked, pulling the comforter closer around herself.

"You are certainly not a 'new bit', you're the woman I am in a relationship with and you just don't understand how those PTA moms are, they look for scandal they're vicious. They were all good friends of Haley you see and I'm already the big bad ex-husband."

"Oh now I feel better - you don't want me to come, or to bring Declan with me because you have an image to consider?" She forced a laugh "way to make a girl feel special, you are on_ fire_this morning." It was hard to remain jovial.

"My image is not important I'm thinking of you, I'm trying to protect you. These women can be ruthless and I don't want you to get hurt." He told her honestly.

"Listen Aaron, that's really sweet of you but I don't need you to protect me any more than you already have. What you did for me... and for Declan was worth more to me than you'll ever know but this is reality and I don't want you to feel like you have to shield me from that. You can't keep me in a bubble forever." She told him, slightly overwhelmed by the way his words had touched her.

"I'm not trying to shield you from anything, I just don't want people to judge us... to make comparisons between you and Haley, that's all."

"Are you sure it's other people you're worried about?" Her question was quiet.

"What does that mean?" He seemed confused.

"It means that this is never going work Aaron if you can't let go of the past... of Haley. She died four years ago and I can't be here constantly thinking I have to live up to some model I can never fulfil - that isn't fair." She finally voiced her concerns.

He was quiet for a moment as he contemplated what she had said. "I have been a prize idiot haven't I? I never meant to make you feel this way. I don't want you to feel like you have to be Haley. She's always going to be part of my life it's true - she's Jack's mother but we were done a long time before Foyet. I'm with you now and I understand that you're different, I like those differences." He promised dropping a kiss to her lips.

" You really mean that?" She asked, hardly daring to hope.

"Of course I do Emily and I'm sorry if it seems like I'm being a stuck in the mud. I guess it's just taken me a while to realise that we're actually together, that the past few months haven't been some elaborate fantasy. I suppose I was just worried that if you became part of Jack's life you'd suddenly disappear, I'm sorry I judged you this way." He sounded sincere.

"Hey I do get it you know, it's just if you don't tell me what you're thinking then we can't tackle things together. Just talk to me, that's all I'm asking." She told him with a kiss.

"I will, I promise I'll try really hard". He replied with ardent sincerity.

They were silent for a short time, exchanging slow kisses until he pulled away and glanced at the clock on her nightstand.

* * *

><p>He was going to be seriously late and his son would probably never forgive him. He had already taken liberties on his son's forgiving nature by coming here last night instead of going home to Jack and he didn't want to push him anymore than was absolutely necessary, neither did he want to leave this room and this conversation without knowing that things were Ok between him and Emily. Leaving now whilst their relationship was balancing on a proverbially precarious edge was a risk, but he also had fatherly duties to attend to. It was a dilemma.<p>

_This is why a real man would tell her he loves her and ask to her to move in Aaron. _

Emily seemed to anticipate his anxieties as she pulled away from him " It's Ok Aaron... You go." She told him with a swift kiss.

"Are you are sure?" He seemed worried.

"Aaron, seriously go you will actually miss this thing if you don't leave now so just give me one last kiss and I'll call you later, get the result." She told him, laughing all the while.

"You'll be alright?" He asked again.

"Sure I will, I'm going to stay in bed for a bit, then I'll go get Declan from Nick's and then he'll keep me company this afternoon. Hey maybe we could all go to dinner later?" She posed it as a question not a suggestion.

"That sounds like a plan. I'll speak to you later Ok?"

"Wish Jack good luck." She told him casually as she laid back against the pillow and let her dark hair splay against the contrasting bright white of the fabric.

"I will." He assured her using all of his strength not to get back into bed with her. He watched her for a few moments as she stretched out beneath his gaze, knowing exactly the effect her slow movements were having on him and then as he turned to go, he thought better of it and fixed her with an intense stare.

"Emily..." He murmured.

"Aaron." He tone echoed his as she got out of bed and crossed the room to him. She had a feeling that today was the day.

* * *

><p>They were both silent for a moment as they started to register the severity of the change in emotions between them. When he didn't say anything she knew she would have to use her initiative. She leant in close to him once more and let her lips ghost against his. She drew back after a while and their emotions swam in their eyes.<p>

"I swore I'd never say it... I never thought I'd have reason to say it but... I love you Aaron." She breathed and she was sure beneath her touch that he had almost stopped breathing.

He stared meaningfully into her eyes but didn't say anything for a long pause and she was half terrified that he wasn't going to say it back but then his fingers ran along the jutting protrusion of her cheekbone affectionately and she began to relax. "I love you too Emily... I've wanted to tell you for so long, I could just never find the words." He told her.

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment as she processed what he had just said but somehow she found her voice "well it looks like you just did." Her smile was wide.

"Are you happy?" He asked quietly.

"Very, now will you go already?"

"I'll see you later... I love you." He murmured again, clearly liking being able to say those words.

"I love you." She replied as she watched him go and she had to admit that it did feel pretty good.

* * *

><p>"Ready?" Declan asked her as he sat in the passenger seat of her car, watching her pull into an empty spot in the overcrowded lot and he couldn't help but think back to the last time that question had come between them. Suddenly he was remembering the way her hand had clung to his fingers until they were white with blood deprivation.<p>

"Sure I am... Hey are you sure you're ready for this?" She asked staring through the windshield.

"Of course. Jack's nine right? It'll be fine, we'll have loads to talk about." He assured her.

"Thanks Dec, you know I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes." She told him genuinely as her hand closed around the handle of the door.

"Erm Em, you have to actually have to open the door."

"Right, yeah..." She seemed distracted but eventually she got out of the car and they began to walk across the gravelled parking lot and moved around the edge of the building.

"Do I look Ok?" She asked, looking down at the green dress she was wearing with worried eyes.

"Em you look great. You do know this is a school soccer game right? You look more like a footballer's wife than a soccer Mom to me." He told her and as she bumped her shoulder against his in jest, he knew he had restored a little of her lost confidence.

"You know..." She began as they began to walk across the playing field and saw the large crowd of proud parents lining the action "we probably shouldn't be here... Aaron told me we shouldn't..." the words died on her lips as her eyes fell on the exact reason he hadn't wanted her there...

* * *

><p>It was unmistakable and yet she hardly wanted to believe it. She blinked several times, just to be certain but each time her eyes naturally tried to shield the pain of the unfolding scene from her view, it only seemed to become more real.<p>

Of course it all made perfect sense now. He hadn't wanted to protect her from the 'PTA Moms', his reason for being so reluctant for her to join him at the game was nothing so selfless and this thought made tears begin to prick at her eyes. The reason for his reluctance and excuses was a very beautiful red head whose hand rested in a manner which surpassed 'friendly' upon his forearm as they bellowed their cheers from the sidelines.

* * *

><p>She was frozen for a moment as she watched them. They seemed comfortable around each other and then she realised that this was probably because they spent every Saturday together this way, safe from suspicion under the pretended guise that they dragged their asses out onto the playing field for their children. It was the perfect alibi and she was ashamed to say that she hadn't thought of it sooner. She had simply been too busy riding on the euphoric waves pulsating throughout her body following his 'I love you' and now she realised this was exactly his intention. He had seen things heading in the wrong direction and he had placated her with those words she had longed to hear. Three little words, three loaded words and now - three words which meant nothing to her.<p>

This morning she had put her heart on the line for him, she had told him the thing she swore she never would but which had felt so right and now he was cheating. Was she the type of woman who listened to false declarations of emotion whilst she wilfully let him cheat? The Hell she wasn't. She would not be made to feel like his cheap and easy bit on the side. She deserved all of him, she _demanded_all of him. She had been stupid but she would not be any longer. She didn't need this and she would tell him so.

Right after she got a coffee down her neck. It was hardly strong enough but short of heading for a liquor store it would have to do for now. She marched with purpose towards the little vendor set up on the other side of the pitch and ordered two coffees and a coke for Declan before heading back towards the cheating scumbag she called her lover.

"Em... Um Em, are you Ok?" Declan asked her nervously as he sprinted to keep up with the pace of his friend and guardian.

"Sure I am buddy. I'm peachy." The words were forced and he noticed not least because in the months he had lived with her she had never once called him 'buddy', neither to his knowledge at least, had she ever described anything as 'peachy'. This really sucked and he hoped that Aaron had a super good excuse for behaving like an ass.

"Hey, maybe you should let him explain huh?" He licked his suddenly dry lips as he said this, not knowing what her reaction would be.

"Explain what? It all seems perfectly clear to me Dec." Even the shortened version of his name did not hold the easiness it had in the car a few minutes ago. Maybe it had something to do with her sickly sweet smile...

He raced to keep with her, gulping in fear of the moment when they would finally reach him.

* * *

><p>Her hand closed around his shoulder in a perfectly calm manner which belied her raging emotions and as he turned towards her, she fixed on her best smile and waited for him to register her presence. He did after a while and she had to admit the guy's 'Hotch mask ' deserved an Oscar at the very least. <em>The tight assed bastard<em>.

"Emily... What're you doing here?" He didn't seem panicked, he was effortlessly in control, naturally.

"Surprise!" She had to admit that her performance was less award worthy. Her high pitch screech coupled with the wild feral dilation she knew would be present in her eyes were a dead give away to the way she felt.

"Emily are you Ok?" He seemed concerned as he turned towards her, running his hands up and down her forearms.

"I'm fine, hey- who's your friend?" She dismissed his concern and jutted out around him to clasp the red head's hand.

"I'm Emily... You know he told me he loved me this morning... he's just a laugh a minute isn't he?" She forced a laugh as she wrung the poor girl's hand.

She looked utterly dumbfounded as she stared back the brunette opposite her and she tried to ascertain why she had just divulged that to her – a woman she had never met. " He did? Well that's lovely." She seemed genuine and Emily hated that.

"Emily... This is Deena." Aaron told her nervously, not sure where she was going with this whole offensive. Clearly there had been some miscommunication.

"Deena? Well it's good to meet you, to put a name to my competition." She told her flatly.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, her accent slightly southern now that Emily was paying attention.

"I said it's good to know the name of the other woman he's screwing." Her tone bristled and she knew deep down she was being unreasonable but something had possessed her that she had never quite felt before. Jealously. Intense. Furious. Jealousy and all because she loved him so damned much.

"I... I think you have the wrong idea." The slightly younger woman breathed out in mortification.

"Oh I think I have _exactly _the right idea." She replied venomously.

"Emily I really think you should take a moment to think about this, you're being ridiculous." He told her, his tone piquing with anger and embarrassment as he pulled her away from Deena and a very red faced Declan.

* * *

><p>"What the Hell was that about?" He asked when they were at a safe distance.<p>

"You're asking me that question? You're asking me that question _and_ calling me ridiculous? How dare you?" She spat angrily.

"How dare I? You're the one storming over here with your assumptions and you're the one not giving me the chance to explain. What're you even doing here anyway? I thought we agreed we'd meet for dinner later?" His eyes were blazing.

"Oh you'd like that wouldn't you?" She asked sarcastically.

"What does that mean?" He sounded furious.

"It means that would fit very nicely with your little 'southern belle' fantasy wouldn't it? Well guess what Aaron, you picked the wrong girl to play this game with." She returned the passion with which he spoke.

"Southern belle fantasy? Would you listen to yourself? Now for the third time – what are you doing here? The game's almost over now, we were just finishing up and then I was going to call you for dinner. Just you, me and our boys." His voice softened then and he reached out to touch her cheek.

She instantly recoiled. "Don't touch me. I can't deal with that now and if you must know Declan and I came out here to cheer Jack on, hey I even got you a bad cup of coffee but it looks like you're pretty set. It's good to know the real reason you didn't want me here." She replied rather sadly, as if observing the ruin of a well laid plan.

"I told you already, I wanted to protect you." He put in feebly though he knew it was little use, her mind was made up.

"Oh yeah from the big bad PTA Moms... So I guess Deena's chair right?" She asked sardonically.

"No actually she's not and I am not having this conversation when I know for a fact you're not going to even entertain the idea that even half of what I'm telling you is true."

"That's the coward's way out and you're digging your own grave here, you know that right?" She shot back at him.

"Emily I don't even know what I've done..." He seemed genuinely confused.

"How about screw some other woman?" She was shouting now and several of the famous PTA Moms turned to watch the spectacle rather than the climax of the game.

"That's what you think? You're completely wrong Emily. I love _you_, I want to be with _you _but right now you're being..." She cut across him before he could finish.

"Ridiculous?" She said the word in defeat and then turned to leave. As if on cue she felt Declan by her side, give her the silent support she needed in that moment.

"Emily, Deena is..." He started to explain but again she interrupted him.

"Save it Aaron. I will not be played for the fool." She hissed over her shoulder and he knew it was no use trying to follow her but that did not stop the words she had prevented him from saying from leaving his lips.

"My sister in law." He murmured as he turned back to see his nephew, the captain of the opposing team running towards his mother. He had really screwed this one up...

* * *

><p>Tears rolled down her cheeks like a river but fortunately Declan did not comment, he simply held her hand as they made their way back to the car. Her heart was pounding at a million beats a minute and her brain was barely processing the information from the last ten minutes. All she knew was that everything was in ruins.<p>

As she slid into the driver's seat and tried to get composed there was only one thought in her mind. _She knew what she had to do. _It was with stone cold fear and consuming dread that she became resolved in her decision. The effects of this decision were barely noticeable save for the hand which she let settle on her abdomen...

* * *

><p><strong>Dun... dun... DUN... <strong>

**Whatever is the big bad author going to do next? I feel like I should run and hide now for fear of all the things which are going to be thrown in my direction... But I promise you that with this story every little thing happens for a reason and I'm sure if you hold on things will work themselves out or at least you'll understand why this had to happen like this... **

**Anyway, I guess what remains to be seen now is did you like it? Feel free to let me know – the good, the bad, the ugly... I appreciate it all. **

**I'll keep plugging away at the next update and hopefully that will be posted in good time. As with the last update most of this was written on the train so it looks like my uni travelling can be put to good use. **

**I have been through this and hopefully caught the edits but if not forgive me. **

**Until next time thanks for reading, **

**Love you all, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	9. Things Fall Apart?

**Hello lovely people. **

**Thank you so much for your reviews I know a few of you experienced mixed emotions with the last chapter which is ironic considering it was called 'emotions' but I thank you for persevering with it and seeing it through to the end. So I think I warned most of you not to trust me with this one and I have to say that it is certainly NOT my usual runaway and reconcile formula. As such this chapter come with a WARNING. Here the M rating extends beyond love scenes and is indeed as far from that usage as possible. **

**HEAVY MATURE READER DISCRETION ADVISED. **

**The opening scenes and the Emily centric scenes as they proceed may be distressing and I understand if you don't feel comfortable with them but I hope that you will at least see it through the end and the resolution because remember whatever happens I am a HEA girl ALL the way. **

**That being said I'm going to go right into it and hope for the best, let me know what you think, if you can. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, it characters or plots and all recognisable plots will be clearly marked in italics. Also the title of this chapter is inspired by the novel of the same title by Chinua Achebe... Also thank you to **_**Isabella Tonks **_**for catching up with this fic so far, I wanted to send you a message but I can't seem to PM you for some reason so a message here is about the best that I can do. Your kind words are an inspiration and always make me smile.**

* * *

><p><em>~"It is impossible to fall out of love. Love is such a powerful emotion, that once it envelops you it does not depart. True love is eternal. There are no 'exit' signs in love" ~ Author Unknown.<em>

She felt sick, the smell of antiseptic clinging to the inner walls of her nose and burning the back of her throat. She had never been so nervous in the whole of her life and she could take little comfort from her surroundings. Instead of bringing peace, the white washed walls seemed to become imposing and even the friendly face of Betty the kindly receptionist seemed to jeer at her now. But Emily was not the worst off here because she was not alone. Beside her, sitting tense and alert was a woman who had decided that holding her hand was the best course of action, regardless of whether she had been asked or not. Emily silently thanked her lucky stars that she had a friend as good as Jennifer Jareau. Otherwise known as super woman. A woman who sat beside her on an equally uncomfortable plastic seat, not saying a word but offering her the silent support she needed without question. Emily appreciated it but she knew that JJ was barely holding it together. The fact that she currently looked paler than Emily imagined that she herself looked right now was as big of an indicator as she needed.

"Thanks for this Jayje." She whispered and her voice sounded raspy.

"Hey, don't mention it." JJ tried to smile but it came out as more of a grimace.

"If this is too difficult..." Emily started but she couldn't find the words and JJ looked as if she couldn't handle them anyway.

"Really." Her blonde friend insisted. "Don't mention it." She murmured and Emily imagined that her friend wished the Earth would swallow her up right about now.

They were silent for a while as they watched terrified woman after terrified woman wince at the mention of their name and then follow a nurse through to the doctor's office in the back.

"Hey Em... Are you sure you want to do this? I mean... After last time..." She paused at the darkening of her friend's features. "It's just, I know you want to be a Mom." The words were quiet.

"Jayje, I wish I could explain it all, but I can't. It's too complicated and this way it becomes less so." It sounded so rational and she sounded so cold that she wanted to cry all over again, but she had to stay strong because this was the way things had to be.

"I get that things might be complicated but if this isn't what you want then shouldn't you at least talk it over with the father?" She asked, not that they hadn't had this conversation before or that she didn't know what Emily's answer would be.

"It doesn't matter what I want, our relationship is broken and this" she paused, placing her hand over her lower abdomen, "would only make things worse. I didn't tell him about it and yet I accused him of lying. He would hate me." She replied, thinking of the unreasonable way she had treated Aaron over the whole 'Deena fiasco' and finally admitting to herself that her reaction probably had more to do with the fact that her secret had been baring down on her and eating her up than any wrongdoing on his part.

"Well... As long as you're sure." JJ finally conceded, knowing that Emily had to feel like she had autonomy over her body and that she deserved her support no matter what.

"I am." She told her though even she could hear the disingenuous tone of her voice.

Tense seconds passed between them, but neither attempted to do anything about the pressure of this situation which saw a loving mother holding the hand of a woman she could only ever condemn. Nevertheless, JJ understood that sometimes circumstances superseded instincts and that was why she continued to sit with her friend in stoic silence as they waited for her name to be called.

* * *

><p>He pulled his SUV into the basement lot of her building and headed in through the lobby after a lone male who evidently lived here. He called the elevator and made his way to her floor without even realising that this was what he was doing. He was driven by the pure desire to reconcile with her and that was all he could think about right now. He practically sprinted along the corridor and made it to her door in record time. She would be surprised he knew that, but here the element of surprise seemed paramount.<p>

Over the past two weeks in which he had called, emailed and attempted to talk to her at work, he had thought they were making progress. Since that catastrophic Saturday, through sheer persistence he had managed to explain himself and to explain about Deena. At first it had seemed that she would not even entertain his attempts to be truthful, but then late last Friday night he had received an email from her which suggested that she accepted his version of events - that Deena had been married to Sean for a short time just over eight years ago, a period which if he was correct had been no more than two months. Although the marriage had been short, Deena had born a son - Gregory and they had settled in Virginia after Deena's stepmother had been taken ill and in the interest of benevolence, Aaron still kept in contact with her and it had been a sheer fluke that the boys had ended up on opposing teams for the soccer match. - He admitted now as he contemplated her cool acceptance of his story that it sounded like a romanticised excuse but she_ had_accepted it and it appeared that he had been forgiven. Or at least so he had thought, until that was, he had received another email the following evening, the contents of which refused to leave his mind. He mulled this over as he stood opposite her door contemplating whether or not he should knock. Those words reverberating through his mind:

_Aaron,_

_I forgive you, I do. It looks like there wasn't anything to forgive to begin with and I'm sorry for judging you that way. The thing of it is, I just can't help but think if my distrust has affected us so early on, what is it going to be like when we become even more serious? I want to trust you and I know you feel the same way about me but I think there is too much between us for this to ever work. I think we should just admit that what we had was amazing for the time that we had it, but in the end we are colleagues first and foremost and that's the way it should stay._

_I meant it when I told you I love you,_

_Emily._

* * *

><p>He hadn't wanted to accept this, he had hated that his failure to explain and her naturally suspicious way had caused there to be a wedge driven between them but he knew that she was as stubborn as he was principled and would therefore be unshakeable in her decision. That was not to say that he hadn't tried to fight for her - he had learned the mistake of not doing so last time- but every time he tried to raise the subject, she shut him down and so, just as quickly as they had become lovers, so they had resumed being Hotch and Prentiss and referring to one another as such.<p>

In the short time of their parting he had tried to move on but she had permeated his being and infected his thoughts and he simply could not let her go. That was why he was here now in the middle of a day when the team were assigned to their write ups and when, by some lack of coincidence, he found himself down two of his female agents. This had to be sorted today because he simply could not be without her.  
>His hesitations seemed to leave him and he knocked on the door, he had to wait only a couple of seconds before it was answered.<p>

Declan did not even look surprised to see him and he wondered if that had anything to do with the fact that he left upwards of ten messages on her machine every day. The boy stepped aside and he entered cautiously, standing awkwardly just inside the door.

"I had a feeling you'd come." He murmured simply as he closed the door.

"I have to see her Declan..." He sounded desperate and the boy felt sorry for him.

"She's not here you know, she left um... thirty or forty minutes ago. The blonde agent, JJ picked her up." He told him and Hotch found his suspicions confirmed - wherever they were, his team members were together. Somehow he doubted their absence was due to a spontaneous girls' trip.

"They both booked personal time today, do you know where they went?" He asked knowing that given Declan's protective disposition, the question would likely only draw blood from a stone.

"Aaron..." He started, disappearing from the room and then reappearing a few seconds later "I don't know for sure... But she left this in the kitchen." He finished handing him a pamphlet.

Hotch took it with shaking hands and stared down at it in disbelief and horror.

_Meadowhurst clinic for women._

He hardly needed to read on to know what that meant, or indeed why Emily had the information.

"What... Um... What time is her appointment scheduled for?" He asked shakily, remembering what Declan had said about having left a while ago.

The boy looked pained as he replied " I don't know. Honestly I had no idea she was even... Until I found it." Somehow Hotch knew that he didn't need to press him to ascertain his truthfulness, his sincerity was there in his eyes.

"Shit." He murmured, because it was the only thing he could coherently think of or which seemed appropriate. He could barely concentrate as the two of them stood in sober respect of his realisation.

"You know judging by the zip code it's pretty close... She would have had to be there early. Maybe, if you hurry you can catch her." Declan offered, knowing the chances were slim.  
>Hotch took this dangled hope like it was the last morsel of food given to a starving man, quickly processing the necessary information into his phone. His GPS put his ETA at twenty minutes if he left now. He didn't have a second more to lose. With this new goal in mind he took off for the door.<p>

Declan watched him go with a heavy sigh. "I hope you find her." He called as he watched him jogging towards the stairwell. Hotch barely even registered what was happening as he sped away from her building, his sirens blaring in wake of the emergency which ensued.

* * *

><p>In the years that she had been away, the thing she had longed for more than anything was the sound of a familiar voice calling her name. In her confusion and desolate delirium, any voice saying those two words would have been good enough. But now as she sat on the worn leather chair opposite Doctor Fuller, she wished that her name was anything other than Emily Prentiss - the woman who could do this twice in one life time and live with herself.<p>

The silence was buzzing and she knew that sooner or later, she would have to face up to the reality of this situation. A reality which was made manifest by the legal documentation and the small silver sachet on the surface of the vast oak desk between herself and the wizened, sad looking medic opposite her.

As she sat in quiet contemplation, she couldn't help but draw comparisons between this experience and her last. She remembered the gown she had worn, she remembered the sterile smell which had surrounded her and the green scrubs of the attending medic, she remembered tears and the dual unpleasantness of the relief and dread she had felt afterwards. This was entirely different. Here she sat in a doctor's office, the only thing between her and her changed future a signature and a sachet of pills the first of which when taken here, would begin the chemical process by which a connection barely forged would be undone. That thought made this seem almost more primitive than her previous experience and she hated to think that something so normal, so humanised as taking a pill could literally end a life this way. She shuddered and as she became aware of reality again she realised this had to do with the somewhat alien sensation of Doctor Fuller's warm hand on her ice cold one.

"Ms. Prentiss, are you sure you wouldn't feel more comfortable if your friend was here too?" Her voice was kind and concerned.

"No. I couldn't ask her to do that. Being here at all is enough of a difficulty for her... She's a Mom, a wonderful Mom." Emily replied and this made her feel even worse.

"I see." It truly did sound as if she understood. "Well before we proceed with the paperwork, it is my duty to ask you whilst you still have the ability to choose, are you quite sure that this is what you want?" She asked with gravity of tone.

Was it what she wanted? Really? Was it really the wish of Emily Prentiss the woman, the grown up to do this? The truth was it went against every natural instinct in her body - to nurture, to protect, to preserve and yet the notion of walking out of here not having done it was equally, if not more terrifying because as much as she wanted to believe that there could be no secret too terrible to move past, she knew that she had already used up her store of his forgiveness. Although this indicated a clear decision whatever the ramifications, she could not find her voice so she simply nodded and picked up the pen...

* * *

><p>The SUV screeched into a space in the lot and he sprinted from the vehicle towards the building without ever really feeling his feet touch the floor. His only objective was to get to her. It hardly occurred to him that he might be too late, all he could think of was stopping her if he could. This was not a selfish motivation and he knew that if she deemed it best then ultimately there was little he could do, but he wanted to stop her making a mistake which she would later regret simply because she felt she couldn't divulge this secret.<p>

As he began to slow down on the approach to the building, he noticed a familiar face. She looked haggard and fraught with emotion and for a moment he wondered exactly why she was there, it seemed oddly cruel for her to be brought here and he did not attribute that idea with Emily. Then he saw her spring forward in her friend's defence, acting as a barrier to the threat he posed and he knew that Jennifer Jareau was made of tougher stuff than he realised. As he drew nearer she began to act as a block until they were level and he saw that the wilderness in her eyes had less to do with protection and more to do with her sheer determination to get through this ordeal. For it was an ordeal for the blonde agent, whose maternal instincts were her reason for living.

She ran a hand through her hair in anxiety as they became level. "Hotch? How'd did you find us? What are you doing here?" She seemed panicked though she pretended calmness.

"Where is she? Is it...? Am I...? Why aren't you with her?" The questions were half finished and frenzied and it was taking JJ's mind a minute to catch up.

"I couldn't do it Hotch, I know I should be able to get past my feelings but all I could think about was Henry and I couldn't. " She replied quietly and they were both still for a moment, but then her brow furrowed and she stared at him in confusion before continuing "wait what are _you _doing here?" She asked.

"JJ... Just tell me am I too late?" He begged and suddenly she began to make the connection.

"Hotch, she's been in there twenty minutes now... I think it's probably..." She couldn't finish the sentence as her hands closed around his shoulders and she felt him begin to tremble.

"This cannot be happening." He breathed out, the words strangled in his throat.

"It's you isn't it? It's broken with you... It's..." She broke off as she turned and looked back at the building.

"Yes." He murmured as he headed for the building.

"Hotch! Wait what're you crazy?" She called after him, breaking into a run to catch up to him.

* * *

><p>His hands slammed down on the counter in his desperation and the kindly old woman on the desk looked startled.<p>

"Emily Prentiss. Where is Emily Prentiss?" The adrenaline caused his voice to become coarse.

"I'm sorry sir but I can't disclose confidential information." She sounded like she was used to this kind of thing.

"Please, I have to see her."

"Sir I can't let you back there without consent." She sounded tired, this job evidently took its toll.

"Ok look, I didn't want to have to do this publicly but I'm with the FBI..." he paused a moment and flashed his credentials "and it is paramount that I speak to Ms. Prentiss. Now." He instructed.

The receptionist's mouth made and 'O' and she ushered him to the space privatised for patients. "If Ms. Prentiss is still here she'll be through there." She told him before backing away.

* * *

><p>Entering that room was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. He had seen some horrific things in his career. He had stood in the face of great evil and he had seen people survive it. His own life had even been touched by it and at times he had felt like he had seen the worst things humanity had to show him and yet he had never seen such desolation, such desperation and such fear as he was witnessing right now in this room and he could hardly meet the eyes of the women who sat waiting for the unchangeable new direction of their lives. As a man he represented probably eighty percent of the reason why most of them sat there and he hated to think that his stupidity had forced Emily to be one of the women he fought to protect.<p>

He cast his eyes around wildly, searching for her in the small clustering of women scattered around the room and he worried that he had missed her without ever getting the chance to find out, to know for certain... to hear her say the words. But then another woman shakily got to her feet as her name was called and just behind her he saw her. There she was, sitting on the edge of the room, her spine completely straight and her arms braced against the plastic chair.

He approached her silently, knowing that no words could quell her sadness. He could tell this because he felt the same sense of all consuming sadness. Soon enough he would grieve but right now there was something more important. She was still the woman he loved and she needed him. He sank down to his knees in front of her and noticed with more than a little concern the way her eyes stared directly forward without really seeing him.

"Hey..." He started, his hand touching to her cheek. "I am so sorry... for everything." He told her and although it was true he knew it didn't mean a thing now because the damage had been done.

It was only as his quiet words were voiced that she started to become at all animated. He had never seen her like this before and it was worrying although he could hardly blame her. Upon hearing his words her body seemed to deflate and the expression in her eyes changed from one of cold composure to terrified torture and he would have given anything to take that pain away. Sadly however, the truth dawned on him - that this wasn't so easy to take away, that he could do little to make this better which could be done without a time machine.

"Emily?" He wasn't sure why he posed her name as a question but he supposed in some ways the question substituted the one he could not ask and did not want to hear the answer to.

* * *

><p>The softness of his voice seemed to be the final straw to her mask of strength and he watched as before his eyes her body collapsed. Fortunately, in his current position he could catch her and did so as if by instinct. As her head fell onto his shoulder and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, he felt every one of her convulsive sobs and it was almost too much for his own carefully crafted emotional composure.<p>

"I love you Emily, it might not seem worth much right now but it's always been true." He told her as he tried to soothe her pain. He did not stop to consider that this admission might be the last thing she wanted to hear, especially now but he had to say something and even under the circumstances this felt like the right thing to say. It was one thing that would never change. He wondered how she would react but he remained optimistic as he felt the violence of her sobs begin to subside.

"Aaron there's something you should know..." She started, her voice thick with all the emotions swimming in her mind.

"Listen to me Emily, whatever happens we will get through this I promise you that." He assured her.

"Will you ever forgive me?" She asked quietly thinking of the implications of what her actions today said about her as a woman.

"There is nothing to forgive. This was my fault for making you think that you couldn't tell me or that I wouldn't support you and I'm sorry." He told her, his spoken words echoing her written ones and a fresh bout of tormented tears began rolling down her cheeks.

"What if... What if I told you that I didn't do it?" She murmured holding her breath for his response.  
>He was dumbfounded by her question and he didn't know how to reply. Did she really mean what he thought she meant? Or was this just another cruel twist of fate?<p>

* * *

><p>"What are you saying Emily?" He asked wildly unsure of anything.<p>

"I'm saying that I realised that this decision wasn't simply mine to make. You deserved to know and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. When I was sitting in that office I suddenly came to see that everything was different this time. This time, it felt like there was a life growing inside of me - a life created by you and me, a life so special I just couldn't..." She paused and a tiny smile crept onto her lips as she noticed the light flicker into his eyes again. She knew then, before he even said anything or had time to process the information that she had made the right choice. There might be tough times ahead, but she was suddenly unafraid to face them. The love in his eyes gave her all the security she needed.

"You're... Still pregnant?" He murmured, ensuring that he kept his voice low.

She reached out and linked her fingers with his, pulling his hand towards her and settling it over her lower abdomen where she allowed her own hand to rest. "Yes." She whispered and found that no sooner had the word been voiced, than he was possessing her lips with a sweet kiss.

"Are you Ok with this?" He asked concernedly as he drew back from her moments later, "I can't imagine what you must have been through and I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me." He finished.

"You were the one who made me change my mind, thinking of how much I love you made me sure that I could never hurt anything created by that love. At first I didn't know what was scarier, not having this baby at all or having a baby at my age potentially alone. Looking at you now I know that would never happen and I'm not afraid anymore." She promised with a smile that was still weak.

"You're not alone and you _would_never have been alone, I would have supported you no matter what, but we're going to do this together and you are going to be a wonderful mother." He assured her.

"How can you say that given what I was considering... What I've done in the past?" She asked, hanging her head shamefully.

"Emily things were different then, _you_ were different. _Today_was different. You didn't do it - you have to remember that. That tells me that you love our child more than you probably even realise that you do – before its even born, that tells me that you are going to be just fine." He smiled at her warmly and she returned it, suddenly feeling strengthened by his support.

"Aaron will you take me home?" Emily asked suddenly overwhelmingly aware of the sadness of this place and feeling mildly guilty for the slight ebb of a fluttering joy in her heart.

"Of course I will, but we should make sure that JJ's Ok to drive too." He replied as she stood and he looped his arm around her waist.

"Oh God... Poor JJ, have you seen her? Is she Ok?" Emily asked thinking about how distressed her friend had seemed.

"She's tougher than you think, she seemed more concerned about you than anything else. You don't have to worry, she's your friend." He told her calmly as they walked towards the exit.

* * *

><p>JJ was going out of her mind, her inner self battling with the situation and causing her to be in turmoil about what to do. Clearly she should never have left Emily in there by herself - that had been her first mistake. Secondly, she should not have let Hotch race in there - who knew what damage that would have done? She wanted to go back in there, she knew by now Emily would be out of her appointment but she simply couldn't face that room and all the feelings it produced in her.<p>

Just as she was facing up to the fact that she'd have to push away her personal feelings in favour of respecting her friend's, she saw them emerging from the building and she began to analyse them the way she might with an UNSUB on a case.

As a newly certified profiler she was certainly not as expert as her colleagues and although she had been around them long enough to pick things up and despite the two of them being close friends, she was finding them difficult to read. She was holding his hand and instead of loosely twining his fingers with hers, he had closed them around hers. This was suggestive of reconciliation but the juxtaposed tear stains on her face suggested that it had perhaps been too late. How could such opposing emotions govern a situation like this? Precisely, she imagined, because it _was_ a situation like this.

* * *

><p>She braced herself their approach, forcing a look of calm onto her face. "Emily... I am so sorry. I should have been in there with you. I should have been a good friend..." She murmured, the question she really wanted answering never getting the chance to be spoken.<p>

"You were and good friend and you shouldn't say sorry, I should never have asked you to be here with me, I should have realised that this would be too difficult for you." Emily replied, taking her friend's hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Are you Ok?_ Well _I mean?" She asked, observing the paleness of her friend's face.

"I'm fine... Better than fine." She replied, guiding JJ's hand to rest on her stomach.

"This is going to be our baby." She smiled and it reached her eyes as she folded her arm around the crook of Aaron's elbow lovingly.

"You mean you didn't do it?" JJ sounded shocked and yet relieved.

"I just couldn't do it Jayje and I'm sorry I ever entertained the idea that I could. I want to be a Mommy. We're going to be a family." She smiled again like the idea pleased her greatly. For Emily, a woman of rocky upbringing the idea of a family unit was alien and exciting. It was also terrifying to think of the ramifications to her fantasy if it went wrong. But it wasn't going to. She could sense it.

JJ seemed stunned but she threw her arms around her friend and drew her close and it seemed to Emily that in announcing her decision, she had given JJ back some of the hope and optimism she clung to. She was glad. She had hated being in that dark place of desolation and she didn't like to think that she had put JJ there too.

"I'll help you, I promise – you won't be alone." The blonde assured her and Emily thanked her, knowing that there would always be someone there to hold her hand every step of the way. She also sensed that she had been forgiven and she was grateful.

"So what do you say we go get back to our family? Just you, me our boys and... Little squiggle." Aaron asked as he touched his hand to her stomach tentatively, unsure if after her ordeal she was ready for that kind of overt gesture.

She let those words settle for a moment, simply appreciating their sound before she leaned in close to him and brushed her lips against his. "Sounds perfect." She murmured as they walked across the parking lot with their friend and it really did. That day the sun seemed to be shining down on them and it seemed that no matter how much things seemed to have fallen apart, there was nothing that couldn't be put back together again with a little comfort, love and whole lot of honesty...

* * *

><p><strong>Well there you go it's out there, it's done and I really hope that you didn't find it too distressing. I would like to take this opportunity to say that as the author of this work I do not wish to assert any of the opinions stated above as my own. I have my own issues concerning this sensitive issues and if this were a reflection of those then trust me you wouldn't understand a word of it. Anyway, I wanted to go with this occurrence as a different option to the runaway scene I used in <strong>_**Breathe Again **_**and also to offset the way she ran in chapter four. I know it's not possible to like it and I'm not expecting reviews to that effect, quite the contrary in fact but I hope that on some level you can appreciate the ways in which I used her previous experience and showed her as evolving and changed and I hope that I dealt with these issues sensitively. Please don't hesitate to let me know what you thought of it. **

**As for the ending I hope that you kind of sensed it and that it offers a little bit of sunshine. I wanted to leave it optimistic for the future of this fic and begin to construct them as a family unit,****stronger for this experience. The next chapter which I will set to work on with some immediacy will be total happiness and you have my word of honour on that. Just a little snapshot of family life particularly as so many of you seem to like the family dynamic I have going. **

**On that note I'll end as I always do by saying please forgive me any minor editorials – they happen despite my best efforts and I apologise. **

**Thank you all for reading, I hope you stick with me and that you trust me to bring you some light next time. **

**I love you all for your continued support on my work. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	10. Home Again

**Hello lovely people, **

**I just really wanted to say thank you for the renewed interest in this story, I know it was a ridiculously long time between chapters the last time I went off the radar, then there were about three updates in two weeks and then a gap again. Such is real life I guess. Some of you, you know who you are, will know all about how crazy my life just got. But thankfully I have the train journeys where no-one can touch me and so here is the result of my travelling. As promised, there is absolutely no threat of imbalance at all in this chapter, it's just happiness and lightness. **

**The chapter title is based on Michael Kiwanuka's song of the same name 'Home Again', if you haven't listened to it, you definitely should. I just thought it fit with the general gist of this story in general, so credit where it's due. **

**I hope you enjoy this one and will let me know what you think.**

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><p><em>~"Family is the most important thing in the world." Princess Diana.<em>~

"Sorry I'm late." He murmured as he entered the room, pulling his tie loose, undoing his cuffs and rolling his sleeves up as he advanced.

He loved the scene which was effortlessly being played out in front of his eyes, it seemed so natural and that made him infinitely happy. It also filled him with guilt as once again he realised he was missing golden time for his job. He had promised himself, but more importantly he had promised her that after what had happened with Haley nothing would come before family. Today was just another example that with the best will in the world and the noblest of intentions, he was simply a slave to the Bureau, more specifically however, he understood that he was a slave to Erin Strauss and would be until such time that one of them broke.

"You've been missing some magic." She told him as she turned to face him and he knew instantly that he was forgiven. There was a playful lilt to her voice which betrayed her smile before he even saw it.

"I know." He breathed as he took a step towards her.  
>She turned towards him fully then and for a moment, he was mesmerised by her. Not that this was difficult but there was something about the way she looked today in particular which caught and snared him.<p>

"Hey." The word was almost whispered and instantly seductive in her rich tone.

"Hey you." He smiled his reply.

"Rough day?" She asked, knowing that she hardly needed to ask - the stress was written all over his face.

He paused for a moment, appreciating more than usual the fact that she cared enough to ask. "I'm sorry" he started, "I know I said I'd be home by three today. Looks like Strauss had other ideas..."

"Aaron you don't have to apologise, this happens. If anyone knows that it's the boys and I. Was it bad?" She asked, knowing that if Strauss had delayed him for three hours then the outcome couldn't have been good.

"Define bad" he laughed before sighing and continuing, "she wants us to increase our case-load, apparently she's demobilising Sam's team 'for reasons beyond my understanding and pay-scale' and guess who has to pick up the slack? I told her it wasn't possible, that we already had far more than we could practically get through - especially since we're down a member..." He paused and they shared a smile at the reason for this "but..." He went to continue but then his eyes really looked at her and he lost his train of thought.

* * *

><p>She was perfect. That was the only thought which filled his mind as he looked at her now. Her long, dark hair was piled high on her head in a messy top knot and she wore a tightly fitting white tank over her maternity jeans which hugged the emphasis of her now very pregnant figure. But these things were not solely responsible for the smile which lit up his face now. What caused the relief of the stress he was feeling was the presence of a single streak of lemon coloured paint which graced her cheek.<p>

"But?" She prompted, her lip rolling between her teeth as she waited.

"You know what? It doesn't even matter. What happens at work stays at work." He told her, surprising even himself.

"Ok..." She began to reply, pulling back and wrinkling her nose the way she always did when she was in doubt. "Who are you and what have done with Agent Hotchner?" She asked with a laugh.

"I left him at the office." He replied, his voice thickening with undeniable lust.

" I kind of wish you wouldn't." She sparred with him, her hands sliding down and settling on his backside.

He drew her into him then and they shared a passionate and loving kiss. She felt so good beneath his touch after a hard day and he was grateful. She seemed almost desperate for his touch and as much as this endeared him, he felt her pain - he recognised the sufferance she had to bare in her condition and later, long after the boys had gone to bed he would make it up to her, it was the least he could do.

"We missed you today." She told him, not in an attempt to accuse him of neglect, but rather to remind him how much he meant to them.

"I missed you too." He told her, brushing a tender kiss to her forehead.

"Yes but, you know what they say about pregnant women right?" She asked, her eyes sparkling.

"No... What do they say?" He feigned innocence as he put a little distance between them and touched his hand to her swollen stomach.

As if on cue, he felt a sharp thump beneath his hand as their little miracle woke up to greet him. That was exactly how he was treating this baby - as a little miracle. In the early days, he had been fearful even to imagine what this child might look like because he was terrified that any over-optimism he displayed would make her believe that the severity of the decision she had been about to make was not impressed on his mind. Every time they had been to an ultrasound appointment, he had been by her side, letting her cling to his hand as she held her breath waiting to be told the worst - that she had been punished for the decision she had made. But that news had never come and step by step the panic they had mutually felt seemed to just float away until they could enjoy the expectation of their child without trepidation.

"Look like someone's happy you're home." She half-laughed despite her wince as she received a sharp pound just below her ribcage.

"_I'm _happy to be home." He replied, pressing a small kiss, full of promise to her plump lips.

* * *

><p>"It looks amazing in here." He commented as he looked around the room, surveying the handiwork of his family.<p>

"Since it was the last room we had to finish, we thought we'd put in some extra effort." She told him with a grin as sunny as the room.

"I can see that." He laughed as his fingers brushed the smudge on her cheek and he drew his fingers away for her inspection.

She wrinkled her nose and frowned at him, "you think it's funny do you Agent Hotchner?" She asked with a wicked smile as she backed away from him, returning seconds later with a fully loaded paint brush which she daubed right across his nose.

"Now who's laughing?" She quipped as he stood there with paint dripping from his nose, over his chin.

"I'll get your for that later." He promised suggestively.

"I know. I am looking forward to it most expressly." She replied with ample zeal and they shared another laugh.

* * *

><p>"Where are the boys?" He asked as he finished the small square of paint work left unfinished - probably exactly for that purpose knowing Emily.<p>

"We were kind of peckish, so Declan mentioned something about pizza but they've been gone forever. I'll bet Jack coerced him into hand making them." She replied warmly, feeling that comforting prickle every time he said something like that, 'the boys', 'our boys', 'our family'. It made her realise how special he was and how much she loved him.

"Oh, poor Declan - he's a glutton for punishment if he's cooking with Jack - you know how meticulous he is." Aaron laughed as they stood there, both of them with their hands on their hips appraising the now fully painted room.

"It'll be like when we come in here, whatever else has happened, the darkness can't touch us because right here in the centre of this house there's a room full of sunshine and happiness." She murmured as she settled her hand over her bump protectively.

"That's beautiful." He whispered, kissing her cheek as he wrapped his arms around her and for a moment they stood there in silence as she cried soft tears of joy.

This mesmeric moment only lasted a second before there was a commotion and suddenly the room was filled with life as the scent of warm, melting cheese filled their nostrils and their eyes fell onto the product of young toil...

* * *

><p>It could have been hours that they spent in the nursery, the four of them lethargic after the excessively loaded pizzas they had eaten and none of them interested in the slightest with moving.<p>

If they had been a piece of artwork in that moment, Emily imagined the artist might call it 'Family' or maybe even 'The Wonderers' because that was exactly what they were. Each member of this family had been engaged with some kind of struggle - a struggle that none of them should ever have been exposed to- each one of them was broken in some way, missing a piece - but somehow knowing they weren't alone in that made everything better somehow. They had fought but they had not been beaten and as reward for their sufferance, they had made it to this moment - despite all the odds. They were a family and this afternoon, despite the constraints of Aaron's job or the fears that were deep rooted in a woman whose tendency it was to run, they were doing what families did. Or least they were doing what families _should _do - they were wondering at just how lucky they were.

They were laid on their backs staring up at the ceiling, something which in itself was a testament to the efforts which had gone into making everything perfect for the baby's arrival. Jack lay with his head rested on her stomach in a way which was both a little odd and yet, spoke volumes of the affection he possessed for her. At nine and a half, Emily and Aaron delighted in the fact that he still had just enough boyish wonder left in him to want to _know_. His pursuit of knowledge was relentless and right now he was trying to discover exactly whether babies spoke when they thought no-one was listening. To her left Declan laid in quiet contemplation, observing each of the fluffy white clouds which now adorned the baby blue ceiling - small and perfect works of art which were the product of loving diligence and to her right, his fingers laced through hers as they rested over his heart, laid the man she loved - inspecting this artificial Heaven with the scrupulous eye of a prudent art critic and loving father.

"The sky looks great." He decided after a moment, though she could tell he would think that regardless.

"It is quite wonderful isn't it?" She murmured sleepily.

"Mm it is." He agreed turning his head to face her as he realised she was talking about much more than the ceiling.

"I am slightly worried though, tell me you didn't get up there and do it." He replied his voice coloured with concern.

"Oh, in _my_ condition you mean?" She smirked before continuing "don't worry _sir_, you think I could get anywhere near a stepladder with SSAs Declan and Jack on my case?" She laughed. "Nope Dec got up there and did it, Jack held the paint pot and gave orders." She finished with mirth.

"I see my boys have you well taken care of." He told he told her, grateful that the boys were on school vacation - knowing Emily, she would have been up that stepladder two weeks ago if not.

"They definitely do - Jack here's a regular little sergeant major" she smiled as she slid her fingers into the boy's sandy hair and combed them through a little "and Declan has gone on hyper alert - keeping me hydrated, making sure I don't sit down too long... Speaking of which... I really should get up." She told them and Jack immediately shifted to allow his dad to help Emily up.

* * *

><p>"So did you guys figure out how to assemble the crib? You know I was hopeless." Emily asked as she finished hanging the curtains and watched the sky beyond the window begin to blacken as the night drew in.<p>

"As a matter of fact..." Declan began as the two boys disappeared from the room and returned moments later carrying the beautiful, fully assembled white crib they had selected. "We did." Jack smiled as he helped Declan settle it as a centre piece in the room.

"You two have done such a good job!" Emily squealed as she looked over the crib which would soon be occupied by the tiny form of her child. "It's perfect." She whispered in wonderment, referring to everything about the situation now.

"It is." Aaron agreed a little sadly, as if he knew what he was missing out on.

"Hey, do you um, do you wanna set up the mobile?" Declan offered, going to the bureau in the corner and retrieving the mobile for him.

"Yes, I'd like that." Aaron replied, taking the mobile from the boy and positioning it over the crib.

They watched as the ducks on the mobile whirled round and round, all of them in a fascinated state of trance. He pushed the button on the side of the sleep aid and they all listened as a familiar lullaby filled the room.

"Perfect." Emily murmured as they let the moment washed over them.

* * *

><p>Hours later as darkness took over and the house grew quiet, the couple were curled up on the couch, the lights low and the conversation frugal. Her head rested on his chest as he reclined against the cushions and his hand lay beneath hers upon her stomach.<p>

After a busy evening of primping and perfecting, they had bid the boys good night and headed into this room, the hub of their life as a family for some down time. They had cuddled enthusiastically and kissed lazily and had simply enjoyed each other's company and now they rested sleepily, both of them knowing that they should be in bed, but neither of them wishing to spoil a moment so calm and perfect.

"Are you happy?" He asked quietly after a time. It was a question which hardly begged answer and yet, he wanted to hear her say those words, he enjoyed hearing those words.

Emily contemplated this for a moment, if only to allow her to exert some control over a response which naturally wanted to burst forth. The truth was, she was happier than she had ever been, happier than she had dared to imagine she could be. Since moving from their apartments to a quiet suburb and into a house which wasn't quite the embodiment of the white-picket-fence-fantasy but which represented something fantastical to them nonetheless, life had been perfect. She had, as a result of her maternity leave become something of a domestic Goddess and contrary to even her own opinions, she loved it. It was nice being home to pick up the boys from school and to help them with their homework, it was great to be able to spend time lovingly designing and creating each room of this house until it became a home. She loved being able to cook Aaron dinner, ready for when he walked in the door and she loved that she had become his shoulder to cry on in ways she had never been before. He told her things late at night as they lay in their bed that he never had or could before and she relished becoming his counsel. That was not to say she didn't miss being a kick-ass female in the FBI, it was just that now, in a way that had never seemed possible before, she was open to new experiences - she realised that the Bureau was no longer the beginning and ending of her life. So yeah, she was pretty happy.

"Well... We finally finished the house so that makes me ecstatic but it's about more than that. You, Declan, Jack... Bump Hotchner here... All of this is so much more than I could have hoped for or deserved and I'm just so sure that it's illegal to be this happy without consequence or... _Something_." She murmured.

"Emily, listen to me Ok? I don't want to hear you say that you don't deserve to be happy. You have been through so much recently that happiness in abundance is little penance for the cards you've been dealt. So trust it, stop questioning it and know that this _is _your life now." He assured her with a little kiss.

"Wow, that's deep for a man who has suffered the wrath of Strauss today. Tell me oh wise one, are you happy too?"

"Emily..." He began, grabbing her hand and drawing it to his lips. " I told you then and I mean it now, I love you and I always will." He finished as his lips brushed the sapphire engagement ring and white-gold wedding band she wore and she smiled as she thought back to those words as he had said them, almost eight months ago.

"What about this, here..." She started, signally to their general environment. "Does it feel like home? Does it feel like before?" She asked gingerly.

"Before? Oh you mean my like my home with Haley and Jack? The answer is no. Haley is gone, she was gone a long time ago, I'm not the same man I was then and even Jack has changed. I'm not hankering after that life, I don't want you to think that at all. I'm not holding down the pause button on my life until she walks back through the door, I know that she isn't coming back and you should too. I would never ask you to be her, you're different women and I love that about you. I don't want Haley anymore- I don't crave her like I did once and whilst she'll always be in my heart, you are my wife now and I love you. I want_ this _life, I want _our_ family and I want _you_. You've given me so much Emily and I will always be happy because that's what you made me. I'm holding you hand ,now and forever and I'm never letting go, so stop expecting me to." He told her, wiping away the tears which sparkled in her eyes with the pad of his thumb.

"You're home again, finally and you can stop searching. You found it - you found me and you found our boys and we are a family. What else is home but that?" He asked quietly as he gave her this assurance. She was silent for a moment and she filled that silence with a kiss.

* * *

><p>Much later, as they lay in their bed, their bodies twined closely as he cupped the exposed, naked protrusion of her bump, Emily turned his words over in her mind, as she listened to the soft rise and fall of his breathing and took comfort from the knowledge that the boys were safe and sleeping. As the hours wore on and he held her no less tightly, she realised what she had been careful not to hope too hard for - That she had finally done enough. She had struggled and she had fought, she had run and she had almost lost it all, but after three years she had learned to trust, she had learned to love and moreover she had learned to stay and in so doing she had <em>come home<em>...

* * *

><p><strong>There it is, I hope that this was happy enough for you in a not-too slushy way. I wanted to make it light and fun but also to address some of the underlying currents in the story. I hadn't realised that in setting them up in a home and settling them down as married, I know, I know blink and you'd miss it, I would be tempted to invoke the overall title of this story, hence the italicising of the final two words. I hope you enjoyed this and will leave me a little review to brighten my weekend after a tough week. <strong>

**I hope I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me. **

**I guess the question now is, where will I take you next? That's the biggest question and guess what? I know the answer. If you want to too, then you know review makes me type faster. **

**Love you all. **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	11. Doyle's War

**Hey lovely people, **

**So I am back, after leaving this story for two whole months, I am here and ready to write after finishing with uni for my summer vacation, yay! As a result I plan to get cracking on this and finish it off, I feel that since it is coming up for a year since chapter one was posted, I really should get this one done. Thank you once again to all my beautiful reviewers, your comments are like gold dust to me. This chapter will be quite small owing to the fact that it is a filler chapter for the BIG, MASSIVE bombshell in the next chapter...dun, dun, dun. **

**As always, feel free to let me know what you think, reviews (for some unfathomable reason) always make me type faster! **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, its plots or characters and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

* * *

><p><em>~"<em>_We are never deceived; we deceive ourselves.__" ~ Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe ~_

The house was silent now, though it had taken a while for it to reach that state. He had made his excuses at around 10.30 after realising that all they wanted, all _he _wanted was to be alone with her. He had laid here in his new room with its simple decoration and the placard with his name on it (designed to make him feel a part of the bigger picture, no doubt) on the door and waited for them to tire in much the same way as he had on many other occasions. He didn't know how they did it, she was beyond huge now and tired quickly – he would know, he was the one who was looking after her during the day after all and_ he _was working ridiculous hours since she had had to leave the team for her maternity. But still they found the energy in the long hours of the night somehow and although they were quiet, his discerning ears detected even the slightest creak of the bed springs. He didn't mean to eavesdrop; he didn't even know where his fascination with them really came from. All he knew was that it was really about one person: Emily Prentiss.

He had forgotten how long exactly they had been in this house. It hadn't been long however and granted, there were days when he felt like he had it all – at last. He had never really been allowed to settle, had never really known true family. Marnie and Robert, he now realised, had never really been his family. They hadn't loved him, however much he had thought they had, they had loved Matthew Simmons. A boy he could never be. He knew of course that had they not been savaged and violently murdered, he would have still had a family and perhaps he would have been happy being Matthew, the boy everyone liked, the boy everyone wanted him to be. But that stormy night in August _had_ happened and despite his fear, he had experienced an adrenaline rush like no other, an awakening of sorts. That was the night he had become aware of what he had always latently known, that he was and would always be, Declan Doyle. Son of an Irish mobster gone rouge, offspring of a monster. Heir of Ian Doyle.

At first he hadn't wanted to believe it was true, he had tried to suppress the parts of himself which both seemed alien and yet which seemed to be the most instinctive parts of his soul. He also knew the reason why this had, at least for a few months, been possible. It was the same reason he laid awake long after he should have been asleep, listening in the dark for any sign that she shared his unhappiness. _Emily Prentiss._

From the moment she had appeared in that doorway, crouching low and offering him escape, his sole aim had been to please her. He had always wondered as a boy why sometimes when he had a nightmare and even Marnie's soothing words or efforts with a damp wash cloth or the sound of Robert's timbre as he read from _Moby Dick_ didn't work, he would find comfort in the strange clouded voice which was always shrouded from his recognition, probably by his own memories. Nevertheless it had always been there, as much a part of his make-up as Ian Doyle was and just as inescapable. That was why he had been so terrified that night, because he couldn't quite believe that on the same night he had been forced to acknowledge his identity, she had come back to him. Her voice had reached him on a strange level, the sound of it willowy and calm as it whispered. It had been almost seductive for the boy who had not quite been a man and he had known then that he would do anything that voice had told him to do.

* * *

><p>That was why he had tried so hard to be Matthew for her, but that hadn't worked out. Declan had called to him, infiltrating his dreams until he had been forced to admit that the same murderous desires his father had possessed existed within him. He supposed that was why he had found it so easy to kill his father and, as much as she had told him that he had done it for the greater good, that he had saved her life, a part of him had enjoyed that feeling of power. It was a part of him which was larger than he would ever admit and it was this same part of himself which had experienced the thrill of holding that fictitious gun and watching her, the woman he realised he both cherished as a mother and now more potently loved almost erotically, squirm and beg.<p>

She said she accepted him, that she loved him for everything that he was but he knew if she only understood the thoughts he had in these dark hours and knew the strength of the thirst which coursed through his veins, a thirst to possess her in the cruellest ways, to take away everything which stood in the way of his relationship with her, then she would detest him and this thought repulsed him even more than the realisation that his fixation had become abnormal had.

* * *

><p>Everyone at school told him how lucky he was. Of course, they would think that. They had no idea that his father had killed more people than they would probably say 'hi' to in their lifetimes. They had no idea of the dark roots of his true identity- he and Emily had made the decision together to register him at school as Declan Jones – another harsh reminder of a mother figure he had thought fit the bill, until now, until her. To them, he was the kid who had it all. The awesome house, the FBI agent parents, the little brother who doted on him. Yep. Declan Jones was a pretty lucky kid from the outside. He had a great life. He lived in the suburbs, had the Mom, the Dad and the brother and he eagerly anticipated the arrival of his new sibling, which as he had told Francesca Blake last Thursday, <em>he hoped would be a girl, he had always wanted a sister<em>. Declan Jones was the happy kid. He was the boy with the cherubim features despite the fact that he had celebrated his sixteenth birthday only a couple of weeks ago, he was the guy all the girls wanted as a study partner in Chem class or in after school Stats, he was the protégée the head teacher was constantly checking up on – he had to make sure Declan, _the school's first Harvard applicant was still on course_. He was definitely the kind of kid a parent would be proud of. He read at the old folks' home on a Saturday and not just for the extra credit, he was the big brother Jack looked up and who spent Sunday afternoons showing him how to build a raft or fly a kite. He was the one who knew that in the second trimester of her pregnancy, Emily had developed a particular craving for tea with lemon _and _honey and that if she didn't have it served to her at precisely eight every morning, she was likely to be cranky ever morning. He was definitely the golden boy and perhaps Emily and Aaron _were_ proud of him, but they were proud of a lie.

No one could ever be proud of Declan Doyle, the boy who read the articles he had saved from his 'Google alert' of Ian Doyle over and over, even now when his father was dead and they all knew who was responsible. He read them not just so that he could avoid ever becoming like his father – something he had also told Emily that night - but because he actually admired the crimes of Ian Doyle on some level – the skill, the finesse, the almost infallible escape record. Until of course Lauren Reynolds a.k.a _Emily Prentiss_ had walked into their lives and changed everything, probably forever if Declan was to be taken as the living proof of her ability to affect the Doyle line in ways no woman should be able to.

When he wasn't with her, being the doting son he was thinking about ways he could be. He knew that this level of love wasn't normal but that didn't stop him craving her attention. Could he make the dinner? Did she need him to do the ironing? Did she want him to read '_Slaughterhouse five'_ to her whilst she rested? Could he help her make a labour playlist? These were all tiny intimate gestures which any son might offer to his mother but for Declan, these tasks had become more than that. When he was doing these things for her, he was the only one she was thinking of. She gave him praise and offered him thanks and he knew that just for that time, he was the apple of her eye. Things were how they had been when they had lived at her apartment, the difference of course being that he didn't have to vie for her attention then. There had been no Aaron and no Jack and as a result, Declan had felt the normal kind of love at the normal level for Emily. But then they had moved here and everything had become about the new house and the new family and the ring on her finger and the baby. Of course he would never want to hurt that unborn child - that was why he had sent Aaron, the fool who had driven her to it, to the abortion clinic in the hope that he wouldn't be too late to save something which could make her as happy as she was now and would be when the baby came. He understood of course that he was just a boy and there were some things he couldn't do for her – like provide her with the stability she needed assurance of to keep the baby, which was why in some ways Aaron was a necessary evil. But he couldn't even count the number of times he had heard them both talking about how much this baby meant to them and he had wanted to scream that he was the reason why the baby was even alive anymore, there had just been too many.

Everything he did was for her and most of the time, she didn't even notice. She was too busy picking up Jack or dropping him at a birthday party or helping him with his math homework. That was the problem for Declan Doyle. There were too many people who demanded her love and he had only ever asked for it. She loved him – she told him as often as she promised Jack the same, but because he would never push her too far, he had not told her it would never be enough. They would be Ok, he knew, if they were just them again, but she had married Aaron and they had settled and so that was never going to happen now. Unless he found away to make it so he was the person she leaned on when everyone else disappeared, for that was what he planned – to make them disappear. Until then though, he would play his part – he would be all smiles and happiness and the photograph they would hang above the fire place when it was delivered tomorrow would show no sign of the monster lurking within him. To the outside world they were a family and better yet, they were a picture perfect family.

* * *

><p>Only Declan himself seemed to remember that old cliche – that behind every picture were a thousand words which were left unspoken. Like jealousy and hatred and loathing and anger and revenge for example. It didn't matter though. Soon the whole world, or at least the whole of <em>his<em> world would have to listen to his story and then everything would be great again. Emily would finally understand that no one could ever love her the way he could and she would love him back and he would have the mother he had always been missing. That was all he had ever really wanted anyway – a mother to call his own, someone who saw all the parts of him and loved him not in spite of them, but because of them.

That was why today had been so perfect. Aaron had been gone early and Declan had made Emily her early morning tea and then after they had watched CNN and made some comments on the state of the world this morning, they had drifted to the nursery, the final room left to perfect in a house which could have come directly from _Home and Garden _and had started work. Jack had still been asleep and Declan knew that the younger boy would probably watch cartoons until lunch time anyway. The prospect of spending a few hours with Emily just being her son, helping her move the objects which were too heavy or dangerous for a pregnant woman and painting the spaces she couldn't reach without risking hurting herself or the baby had been a great cause of happiness for him. He had enjoyed being the person she was relying on and he had recognised a sparkle in her which told him that she had liked having things back to the way they been too. Then Jack had come in and ruined everything, playing the 'cute act' and telling him what to paint and how and suddenly the fairytale was over and he realised what he always known – he would never belong to this world or this family. He was destined for a higher place. The realisation had hurt for a second before his heart had hardened and he had finally understood that no one had ever lied to him. He had always been Declan Doyle and even though they tried to deny his existence, everyone around him had always acknowledged that part of him. The only person who had been fooled and hurt by this ultimate realisation therefore, was Declan himself.

Not anymore. Even tonight when he had laid in that nursery with his 'family', staring up at the clouds and listening to their hopes and dreams, he had been planning his next move, perfecting the way in which he would get his revenge on all the people who were preventing his happiness, who were barring his way to _his_ hope and_ his_ dream – that one day he would call Emily Prentiss mother and feel like he had it all.

* * *

><p>He didn't want to hurt her, of course he didn't. He loved her that was the point that was the reason he had chosen to kill his father rather than see her die - that was why he always defended her no matter the cost - that was why sometimes he admitted that he couldn't be everything to her. But that didn't mean he didn't wish with every fibre of his being that being her son would be enough, for either of them. That was why he had decided, somewhere between finishing his last slice of slightly doughy pizza and collapsing to look at the clouds, that if she wouldn't come back to him herself, he would bring her back by force. By the time he had finished, he would be the only person that she had left to turn to and maybe then he, Emily and the baby could be a family the way he had always envisioned, the way his father had envisioned. The way he saw it, there were only two things that were standing in his way and those two things were easily taken care of. One fell swoop would take them right out of his life for good and then, he wouldn't have to pretend anymore because if she forgave him for this, then she truly did love him for all the things he was and if not? That hardly bore thought, but if he had to, he would face that eventuality when he was presented with it.<p>

His plan cemented itself in his mind just as the first ebb of sleep pulled at him despite his best efforts to resist it. It wouldn't take much, he wouldn't even have to step outside of the identity he pretended to every day. There was one way to bring about a change in his life and in hers and his name was four letters in length. As the thought solidified in his mind, he felt a barely perceptible change within himself, similar to the one he had felt when she had opened that door. In acknowledging his true intentions, he had become Declan Doyle – there could be no more deception and there was no going back now...

* * *

><p><strong>Well there it is, have I completely shocked you? I know I shocked myself, it's certainly darker than I imagined it was going to be, I guess this story is bringing my dark side out to play :P Do you hate it? I know it might seem a little out of character in terms of the way that I have been writing Declan so far, but if you read it closely and particularly pay attention to the references I have made in this chapter I think you'll see as I suddenly did when designing a plot map for this story that this side of him has always been lurking there somewhere. To anyone who's going to start hating on me now, I know some of you will :p I will say this, I told you not to trust me too much. <strong>

**I know that this one was short, possibly the shortest chapter I have posted yet on this story but it was specifically designed to be short, sharp and shocking to raise the suspense and to get you thinking about what is going to happen next and just how... **

**Please do feel free to let me know what you think, whether or not you like it. I hope I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me. **

**I'll be back with more on this probably tomorrow (or at least writing more for it, so look out!) **

**Thank you as always for reading this and of course for sticking with me through shoddy update times and twisty turny suspense filled cliff hangers. You know you love them really. **

**Love always, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	12. Toy Soldiers

**Hey lovely p****eople, **

**First of all can I say a big thank you for all your continued support on this story, despite the fact that I keep twisting, turning and changing it up and my poor update turn around. Following the reaction last night I have been busily typing away at this and it is out as soon as possible. Seeing as how the 'boo-hiss' reaction wasn't too bad on the last chapter, which I know shocked you all, I will say only this – hold on to your hats! **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. The title of this chapter has no relation to the film of the same name, at least I don't think it does – I've not seen the film myself so I wouldn't know, but if it is at all similar credit it where it's due – thanks to my girl **_**Charmony **_**for highlighting its existence!**

* * *

><p><em>~ "Revenge is a confession of pain" ~ Latin Proverb. <em>

"So you're going with Seattle?" Garcia asked, her fingers poised on the tablet she held in her hands, ready to send the appropriate information depending on the final decision of the rest of the team.

"I think our resources and expertise would be best suited to that case." Reid interjected before someone more senior could make the decision.

"Yes, Reid's right, there'll likely be a greater success rate in Seattle." Rossi agreed.

"Well it's settled then, please forward us the pertinent information Garcia and inform the police department of our impending arrival." Hotch told her and glancing at his watch, he added "wheels up in thirty," before heading towards his office for the final preparations before takeoff.

* * *

><p>The team were assembled at the elevator waiting for it to reach their floor before they could head out to the hanger when the doors opened and there inside the steel box, stood a very pregnant, very worried looking Emily. She glanced frantically at the team's go bags and stepped out of the elevator.<p>

"You're going on a case?" She asked, her voice sounding distorted and heavy with what he knew immediately were tears. He knew he had promised he would try not to take on any out of state cases with the baby now at twelve days from Emily's due date, but he expected to back off this case in a couple of days. Everything looked to be pointing in a specific direction, all they needed were the missing pieces and they would have a profile and the profile would as is often did, lead to an UNSUB. He understood that she was hormonal and emotional right now, but she was frantic and he couldn't explain it.

"Did you drive down here?" He admonished. She knew how he felt about her taking unnecessary risks so close to term.

"_Are you going on a case_?" She asked, ignoring his question and reemphasising her own again.

"Yes. We're headed to Seattle; it looks like a team of killers." He replied, hoping this would calm her down.

"Seattle? You're going to_ Seattle_?" She asked her voice breaking then and a tear spilling down her cheek. He wondered if it was the distance or something else bothering her.

"It won't be for long, I promise I'll be back in time to meet wriggle here." He told her placing a hand on her bump but she pulled away.

There was something else going on and he had yet to figure that out. It took JJ, a fellow female, to raise the alarm to the fact that she was trying to tell him something.

"Em what's the matter?" She asked worriedly but her brunette friend just kept staring straight at Aaron.

"Oh my God. No one told you did they? You don't know. _She _didn't tell you?" She spat heading off in the direction of Strauss' office.

* * *

><p>"Emily stop, wait." He called after her, catching up to her easily given her condition.<p>

"Damn it Aaron, why don't you keep your personal line switched on?" She was yelling now and still he was missing a point somewhere.

"You know I don't have it turned on at work, it's a distraction." He told her, wondering what this was really about for maybe the fiftieth time since she had arrived.

"Tell me, is your son being missing a 'distraction' to you Aaron?" She asked, furiously waddling her way to Strauss' office.

"What are you talking about? Where's Jack?" He was frantic now and actually had to break into a jog to keep up with her.

"I don't know Aaron, that's the point, he's _missing_. If you'd turned your damned phone on you would have known what I know which is precisely nothing." She shouted, throwing open the door to Section Chief Erin Strauss' office and stepping in inside without any thought for politeness or protocol.

* * *

><p>"You" she spat, jabbing her finger in Erin's direction "said you were going to handle this." She practically roared.<p>

"Which, Agent Prentiss, you'll see I am trying to do now. These are Agents Forbes and Wilkins from missing persons." Strauss replied calmly.

"Missing persons? You didn't think that his father needed to know? You knew I couldn't reach him on his personal line and he was clearly in briefing so I couldn't reach his office..." She sounded distraught. "You said you'd sort it." She finished sadly.

"I did and that is what I'm trying to do. Agent Hotchner and your team have another case and besides the personal connections you all have to the case are a lawsuit waiting to happen. I made a decision and I'm warning you now, watch your tone agent." She addressed Emily sternly.

"Personal connections? He's my son, of course the team care and if you think I'm going out on another case then you are crazy. I can't speak for the rest of the team but I am standing down from active duty until my son is located." Hotch spoke up, letting Erin know exactly what the state of play was before guiding Emily from the office and back to where the team sat waiting anxiously.

* * *

><p>"So what do we know?" Aaron asked, trying to be objective.<p>

"Only that he's missing, Mrs. Stone wouldn't disclose any information about it to me, she said since I wasn't a registered emergency contact she couldn't tell me. I explained the situation but..."

"Right." He replied resolutely, pulling out his phone and hitting a speed dial combination. It rang for several tense seconds and then he was barking down the line.

"Why the Hell would you withhold information about my son's disappearance from my wife?" He yelled, taking a breath as she imagined, the secretary told him to calm down whilst she connected him to the appropriate member of staff.

After several more seconds he started yelling again and the sound of the pain in his voice set her teeth on edge.

"What are you doing to find my son? The police? Why the Hell didn't you call me? Yes well I am with the FBI, my people can get results. Calm down? I would challenge you to stay calm if this happened to Amanda" Hotch told the school's principal, whom he knew quite well, as they listened to the seemingly one sided conversation he was having.

"Now, what do you know about my son's disappearance?" He was silent then as he listened and suddenly he became pale as the remaining colour drained from his face.

* * *

><p>The handset practically dropped from his hand and he turned towards Emily staring blankly in her direction.<p>

"Aaron what is it? What did they say?" She asked nervously, her lip rolling between her teeth.

"Emily, Declan went to school this morning right?" He asked, his voice a low whisper.

"Of course he did, he has a Chem lab test today and he was really excited this morning. I've never seen him so eager to leave the house. Why?" She asked, not seeing what was really right in front of her face.

"I don't think he made the test." Aaron spoke with a hollow voice.

"How do you know?" She asked, confused to say the least.

"Because Mr Craven says Jack was taken off site by his brother." Aaron replied and suddenly her face crumpled with realisation.

* * *

><p>"So as far as Mrs Stone can recall, Jack had just been paired with Marissa Lopez in preparation for their science experiment when she got a call from the office – from Annie over there - to say that Jack's brother was at the desk and he needed to collect Jack because your wife was in labour." Mr Craven began, looking apologetically towards the distraught couple who clung to each other for dear life. "Clearly we know now that isn't the case." His eyes flashed to Emily's prominent bump.<p>

"But I don't understand... Didn't your staff think to question him, I mean it's not protocol to let minors leave campus with other minors right? What about safeguarding – you're a school, that is important here isn't it?" Aaron asked the words escaping him angrily.

"Agent Hotchner I appreciate your agitation, I do..." Mr Craven paused a moment and seemingly changed tact in that time. "Look Aaron, there will be a full investigation I assure you, but the fact of the matter is, the boy had a note signed by... you, in hindsight of course we know it was a forgery." He sounded apologetic but it wouldn't be enough.

"We should be thankful that Annie questioned her judgement afterward and called your wife, if not we wouldn't even be aware that Jack had been abducted." He continued.

"Thankful? Jim, my son is missing! What have I got to be thankful for?" He spat, getting up so swiftly that his chair hit the floor.

"Aaron honey..." Emily began to soothe but she understood that even she wouldn't be able to calm him down, only Jack's safe return could do that. "The one consolation in all of this is that if he's with...Declan he must be safe. He wouldn't want to hurt him, Jack's like a brother to him." Emily tried to be optimistic but she simply couldn't justify his reasoning enough to know for certain that this was true.

* * *

><p>As if on cue her phone began to ring and she quickly connected the call.<p>

"What do you have Garcia?" She asked frantically.

"_Brace yourself Em, promise me?" _The blonde replied before answering her question.

"I'm ready, just tell me what you have." She told her, closing her eyes against the imminent pain.

"_I just finished analysing the CCTV footage from the school yard..." She paused. _

"Who is it?"

"_It's him Em, it's Declan. I'm sorry." _

"Oh thank God." She murmured nodding her head at Aaron who also looked relieved on some level.

"_Em, that's not everything. I logged into Declan's system remotely, there's a lot of creepy stuff on his computer. An equation... You ready to hear this?" She paused considerately. _

"I need to know Garcia."

"_It could be any simple algebraic equation except the numeric terms have been subbed for words... Declan + Emily = P.E.R.F.E.C.T. It's not sophisticated, nothing like we would imagine Declan producing. It might seem insignificant, I wouldn't have even mentioned it... only the equation has been translated into a code. A code on timer. At precisely 2pm, one hour from now, the code was set to go viral – he was going to a release a post to a blog 'the monster within'... I think you should read it, it's for you, I'm sending it to your PDA now." _Garcia told her, knowing how much pain this was going to cause Emily.

"Thanks Garcia." She told her curtly, preparing to hang up when the analyst spoke again.

"_I really am sorry sugar plum." _She told her sadly.

"Me too." Emily agreed with equal regret.

* * *

><p>She ended the call and opened the attachment on her PDA and what she saw made her stomach turn...<p>

_Dear Emily, _

_By the time you read this, Jack will be dead. He will no longer be an obstacle to our happiness. You will no longer have to run around dropping him places or read him ridiculous stories, you will not have to lower your I.Q – from now on you can have intelligent conversations and we'll be happy again. I know that Aaron will never understand why I've done this and he will never forgive me. You know what that means right? He'll never forgive you because you'll love me- that's what you do. You love me, no matter what, no matter who – remember? It doesn't matter, they don't matter. They were just sacrifices, casualties in my father's war. Now it'll be just you and me like it used to be and maybe you'll love me again, maybe you'll love me like you said you would now. _

_This is my legacy and it's time that Declan Doyle woke up and said hello... _

She couldn't read on, she deleted the post immediately. Hating the way it sounded like a manifesto, hating how closely Declan's language mirrored the tone of his father. What had she done? What had_ he_ done?

"Oh My God." The words were all she could manage as she realised that she had failed to notice this change in Declan, had failed to notice his fixation with her and ultimately, had failed to realise that this was all about her and the way that she loved the boys.

"Emily?" Aaron asked, crossing the room from where he stood behind the principal's desk looking over the CCTV footage which indeed showed Declan walking Jack right off site.

"What is it?"

"We have to find them Aaron. We don't have much time." She murmured, levering herself out of her chair and heading towards the door, hoping that her husband would follow, she couldn't wait – every single second counted, for the lives of both the boys.

* * *

><p>"Are you having fun Jack?" Declan asked hoping that his voice was more level than his racing heartbeat.<p>

The younger boy looked at him with an expression of utter concentration, not saying anything as he watched him walking trapeze-artist style along the edge of the building. He seemed to contemplate the question in depth before giving an answer.

"I thought you said we were going to the hospital?" He posed the words Declan had told him as a question.

"Emily will be here." Declan replied dismissively.

"But you told me the baby was coming." Jack retorted.

"Yeah that's right, the baby is coming too."

"Declan the hospital isn't up here, the hospital is a few blocks away..."

"Will you shut up about the hospital?" Declan spat and Jack's lip wobbled. _Great way to blow this thing apart. _

"You're a liar." Jack told him frankly.

"I'm not lying, Emily _will_ be here." He insisted looking out across the cityscape with all its oblivious little ants. He wondered briefly whether Aaron had started blaming her yet, for bringing him into the household. It wouldn't be long now.

"Are you a bad guy Declan?" Jack asked, thinking back to a time that hurt.

"What are you talking about?"

"Are you a bad guy like George was? Are you going to hurt me?" Jack asked nervously.

"Who is George and why would you think that I'd want to hurt you?" He asked, his own nerves suddenly riled.

Jack paused, not sure that he wanted to trust Declan now. After a while however, his reassuring smile made the younger boy reply. "George killed my Mommy and he told lies too." He admitted.

Declan was silent as he watched the tears welling in Jack's eyes. He had clearly had his mother robbed by circumstances beyond his own control too. For a moment they were the same he and Jack, both motherless, both desperately seeking that comfort in their lives. For the briefest moment, he almost regretted the fact that his plan had to be enacted on a boy who was on some level like him, who probably understood exactly how he felt. But then he remembered why he was doing this and his ultimate goal was just too important to start getting sentimental now.

"I'm not lying to you. They'll be here." He insisted again and this much at least, was true. They _would_ be here, but he couldn't promise that people wouldn't get hurt.

Jack still looked uncertain, his lip wobbled and his eyes sparkled with tears and Declan knew that if he didn't do something soon, he was going to lose his opportunity – something he definitely did not want.

"Hey shall we play a game?" He suggested and predictably, the boy brightened.

"Is that why we're on the roof?" Jack asked and Declan nodded enthusiastically at his logic.

"What kind of game is it?" Jack asked out of natural curiosity.

"First you have to promise you'll play, no matter what." Declan encouraged hoping to make even explaining the rules a game.

"I promise." Jack replied with hesitation.

"Then let me tell you. It's called 'Toy Soldiers' and there's only one rule." Declan told him intriguingly as he glanced at his watch. _13.24 ,_the display read, not long now, it wouldn't be long, he kept telling himself.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you have nothing Garcia, nothing at all?" Aaron asked his voice shaking as he reacted to the fact that they were losing time.<p>

After they had left Jack's school Emily had proceeded to explain what Garcia had sent her and the implications of the time constraints this imposed on their need to find Jack – sooner rather than later. Since they had arrived back at the office, they had both been frantically trying to make suggestions which might just turn into leads on locations. They had tried the hospital on the off-chance that Declan's choice to do this meant he was actually delusional enough to believe that Emily _had _gone into labour, but they had not been there. They had tried the park, the ice cream store, the bus stops in a twenty block radius of Jack's school and still nothing. Garcia had been trying to trace Declan's location through his cell signal but that he been counterproductive since it had been switched off. They were running out of options and they knew that meant they were running out of time.

"Come on Emily, think. Where would Declan go? Where would he take Jack?" Aaron asked, desperate for anything they could use and not meaning to be harsh with her.

"I don't know! I'm trying, I really am – I thought he would be at the park it's the only place he's ever been alone with Jack, I just... I don't know why he's doing this." Emily replied, sorry she couldn't help. She wanted to get to the boys just as much as he did.

"Did he ever mention somewhere sentimental he would go? Maybe in the past?" Aaron clutched at this last straw for dear life.

"Aaron he has spent most of his childhood out of state, he hardly knows the area let alone remembers somewhere someone might have brought him in the past."

"Then if you had to hedge a bet, where would you say he'd go?" Aaron pushed her further.

"I don't know! I told you. I just don't know. This, this is too much..." She told him as her blood pressure rose and she began to feel giddy.

"Here Em, sit down." JJ soothed guiding her to a chair, but Emily shrugged off her efforts.

"I don't want to sit down, I want those boys safe."

"How are we ever going to find them in time?" Reid mused tactlessly, knowing with his blatant honesty and fiercely realistic outlook that the chances of recovering both boys unharmed under the time constraints were little to nothing.

There was a long pause as they all contemplated this before Garcia sat up a little straighter and started waving her arms wildly.

"With a little help from a technical kitten!" She exclaimed pointing at the little green dot flashing on her O.S map.

"Is that...?" Someone asked in mild disbelief.

"Declan just came back into range." Garcia announced quietly.

They glanced at the clock on the wall. _13.32_...

* * *

><p>He listened to the ringing in his ear, counting each one. He got to five before he heard the call connect and he knew that the process had already started, they were already trying to track him. That was why he had left it so long to call.<p>

_Pick up, pick up... _He silently willed.

"_Declan?" _He could hear the worry in her voice almost immediately.

"Emily... You have to come... Please come." He replied pitching the desperation in his tone appropriately.

"_Declan, honey, where are you?" _She asked, looking intently at the map as Garcia began to hone in on his signal, eliminating block after block from their search field.

"Do you want to play our game?"

"_Is Jack with you?"_ He could hear the relief wash over her at the mention of the plural and again he felt justified in his plan.

"We just need one more player." He avoided the question but gave her the answer.

"_What sort of game is it Dec?" _She asked, doing her best impression of calmness.

"One for only three players, do you understand?" It was the first time that he had made a threat, changed the game so to speak.

"_I understand. So tell me Dec, where are you? I wanna come play with you guys." _She asked again, knowing that whatever his fantasy was, this three player thing was very important to him.

"Haven't you found me by now?" He asked in a voice which was not his own but rather mimicked that of his father, cold, commanding, condescending.

The line went dead.

_13.36_.

* * *

><p>"Did you get him?" Emily's voice shook as she asked the question, they were words she had used a thousand times before, but which had never seemed so frightening as they did now.<p>

"I isolated his location to within one block of where the signal last pinged." Garcia told her.

"Can you enhance the map please?" She asked, knowing there wasn't a second to lose.

Garcia did this silently until pinpricks became blurs and blurs became discern-able as buildings. Emily ran her eyes over the enhanced map and that was when she saw it and in that moment, she understood.

"I know where they are." She told them all resolutely as she began slowly making her way her to the door despite the urgency of the situation. It couldn't be helped in her condition.

"So? Are you coming?" She asked the six of them.

"Garcia" Hotch spoke as he headed towards the door, "call in some back up." He instructed as he followed Emily.

* * *

><p>They skidded to a halt half a block away from the <em>Dana Doyle Adoption Agency<em> at precisely _13.47_. She stared at the faded building and she knew that it had been specifically as part of Declan's game. It wasn't about Dana Doyle at all, she was in all probability of no relation whatsoever to Declan, but the letters of her name **'D.D'** _were_ symbolic. Important also if his internet posting was anything to go by, was the fact that they found themselves outside an adoption agency – he probably had some idea that this would all end with her signing some papers to make their mother-son relationship official.

"So... they're probably inside right?" Hotch asked and she had never heard him so frightened. In fact she realised that she had never seen him show a single sign of weakness in the field unless Jack was involved as he had been once before...

"I don't know, but I'll bet Declan has big plans for this part of the game." She murmured glancing at the time as it slid on another minute and she unbuckled her seat belt.

"Emily..." Aaron's tone was one of warning.

"He said he wanted me." She deadpanned getting out of the Yukon and trying to adjust the FBI vest she wore which didn't fit her pregnant body now.

* * *

><p>She advanced down the street slowly as was her way now and surveyed the building from this vantage point, was it just her or were there figures on the roof?<p>

She headed towards the building intending to find the quickest means of access to the roof but just as she was about to enter, she was stopped by a hand on her arm.

"Emily are you crazy?"

"He wants me Hotch, you know in these situations we have to try to give the... UNSUB what he wants, especially if there is a child involved and not just any child... yours... and mine." She glanced towards the roof noticing how the two figures had edged closer. In the piercing sunlight, she saw a flash of silver.

"Oh please God no." She murmured, knowing without needing to confirm it what it was that Declan held in his hand.

"Emily I'm not letting you do this!" He told her using his SSAIC tone.

"Do you want to save your son or not?" She shouted and he noticed how she hadn't even thought to mention Declan. It seemed she had already accepted that a sacrifice had to be made.

As he began to protest, her phone rang again and she quickly answered knowing that precious minutes were being wasted.

* * *

><p>"Declan."<p>

"_I said just you, you're not playing properly." _He told her bitterly before ending the call.

* * *

><p>"Shit." The sound of the curse word reawakened her to the present as Hotch saw the same flash of silver she had seen.<p>

Shit was exactly it. She had messed up and as she saw the figures on the roof move ever closer to the edge, she realised the severity of her mistake.

"Emily don't do it." Hotch yelled after her as she quickened her pace towards the building.

"I will not see him die Aaron." She told him and then she disappeared.

* * *

><p>Declan pushed Jack in front of him and the younger boy spread his arms out as if to shield him as Declan had shown him. He knew he had to do what he was told, it was the only way to survive and besides he had to stall until his Daddy came to his rescue. Jack was used <em>working the case<em>, he just wasn't used to _being_ the case, but his daddy would come.

"Ok Jack, it's like we said. This is all a part of the game. You're a soldier and what do soldiers do?" Declan prompted.

"Protect people."

"That's right and you're going to protect me." Declan told him, the knife he wielded resting threateningly on his shoulder. "Promise?"

"Promise." Jack agreed without hesitation, _smart kid, _Declan thought to himself.

* * *

><p>Emily was out of breath by the time she reached the roof but she kept pushing through it since she was aware that she had lost precious minutes on the way up here. She just hoped she wasn't too late.<p>

She opened the roof door slowly, not knowing what she would find on the other side or indeed how Declan would react if she interrupted the game he was playing. She didn't raise her weapon since she didn't want to alarm him, but she suddenly felt exposed and alone and she wished she had waited for the tactical team. She knew Declan, or at least she thought she did but she wasn't prepared for his transformation into Declan Doyle. _He_ was a boy she had tried to suppress, to deny and she wasn't ready to meet him yet, the wounds his father had inflicted were still too fresh for them to be cut open again by his son.

She stifled the scream which threatened to escape just before it exploded from her vocal chords as she saw the way the knife rested against Jack's shoulder and she watched the boy tremble with all the fear which was at that moment racing through her own mind.

"Declan... Declan it's Ok. I'm here... I made it." She told him, moving a step closer.

"You came..." He murmured, a wicked, distorted and cruel smile spreading across his face and making him wholly unrecognisable to her. "Didn't I tell you?" He shook Jack and Emily gasped as the knife slid ever closer to the young boy's neck.

"Yes." Jack replied, his voice wavering as he bravely tried not to cry.

"Declan put down the knife, we don't it to play right?" Emily asked, desperate to stop him from doing something stupid.

"You don't make the rules." He spat, glancing at his watch. _13.51._

"Ok, so why don't you explain the game to me? I'd like to play too." She conceded knowing that agitating him further in this volatile state would only end in more tears than there already would be.

"It had to end this way, don't you see?" He asked, shifting nervously.

"End how Dec?" She asked keeping her tone affectionate.

"It was the only way to get you to see me again." He had already started to ramble, a clear sign that he had devolved in some way, even in the short space of time since she had been here.

"I've always seen you Declan, always. I promise you that." She assured him, not knowing where the accusation had come from.

"You certainly do now. I'm the crazy kid on the roof with a knife and a ten year old hostage." At the mention of this word, Jack let out a squeak.

"Shut up, you know your job." Declan growled.

"His job? Does Jack really have to play? He's just a little boy. I read your blog Declan, I know what you want. You and me, just us – the way it used to be. Let Jack go and we can have that. It'll be just the way you want it." She begged.

"Jack's a player - if I let him go now, I'll lose the game." He told her quietly.

"You won't lose, you tell me what to do and I'll do it but you have to let Jack go. Don't let_ him_ win Declan, please." She pleaded and his eyes flashed with the recognition of what she meant, to whom she was referring... _Ian Doyle_.

"He already has." He told her honestly, his pain shining through the cruel tone he used.

"I don't believe that, you don't have to be like him. You can have me Declan, I know that's what you want. I'm yours, I don't belong to your father. You already beat him. Now please, just let Jack go... _Let him go to his father_."

"DON'T TALK ABOUT HIM!" Declan screamed, the knife quivering in his hand.

"What's this really about Declan?" She asked, pushing him, stalling for time.

"I see the way he looks at you, like you're his piece of meat. He doesn't love you Emily, not like I do. He doesn't understand you, he doesn't take care of you." He replied his voice wild with anger.

"No one takes care of me better than you Declan." She agreed, hating the sexualisation of their relationship she was being forced to suggest.

"Do you mean that?" He asked, his tone evening out as he took a step away from Jack ,seemingly forgetting that he had ordered the boy to protect him.

"Of course, who else knows me like you do?" She asked, taking another step closer and praying that Jack stayed exactly where he was. It was the only way to guarantee his safety.

"I notice everything." He told her proudly and she felt sick at the thought.

"I know, thank you." She replied fighting down every urge to throw up.

"I love you Emily, you know that's why this had to happen don't you? I'm doing this for you, for us so we can be a family..." He told her and she recognised the typically obsessive pyschopathy in his words immediately.

"I know. I love you too, you know that right?" She asked feeling something far from love for him in that moment.

"If that's true then why'd you need..." He stopped abruptly then and looked back down at his watch.

* * *

><p><em>14.03<em>

* * *

><p>There was deadly silence then. Whereas previously the teams on the ground had been able to hear murmurings and at times furious shouting, now there was only eerie silence. Emily had done well to pass the deadline Declan had set for the final move in his game but now in the quiet, the agents knew they had to expect the storm.<p>

Hotch was frantic with worry because his entire family were on that roof and he had no idea what the outcome would be. Whatever else happened, he knew he should never have let her go up there without back up. But Emily was head strong and since the game had been designed for her, because of her, he knew she had felt responsible for Jack's abduction. Still, even this did not give him the justification he knew Strauss would ask for when all of this was over and done and the final reports had to be written.

"Hotch what do we do?" Morgan asked, desperate for an order was gave an affirmative to the action he wanted to take – namely racing up those stairs and rescuing Emily from the second Doyle she had faced without her partner.

"We do nothing." He told them all, knowing it would kill them to be so inactive but recognising that this was the right thing to do as he raised his wrist close to his mouth. "Send in the tactical team." He ordered into the system connecting him to Garcia, the woman who would effectively deploy the team who might just save the lives of those on the rooftops. "Get my family out of there." He murmured as he returned his eyes upwards.

* * *

><p>"You tricked me." Declan yelled, noting that the great ending of his game, the one which ended in her complete isolation had already been ruined. Suddenly he realised how far away from Jack – the one person who could shield him – he was.<p>

"It's _14.03 _Declan, what happens now?" She asked tears breaking her voice as she saw the sadness in his eyes and recognised the betrayal he felt.

"You think this changes anything?" He asked, his voice raw and animalistic.

"DECLAN DON'T!" Emily yelled, fearing he was going to go after Jack but she realised, too late, that his plan had changed.

'_If she wouldn't come back to him herself, he would bring her back by force.'_

* * *

><p>He lunged for her, this woman he had longed to call mother, all thoughts of the pathetic little toy soldier – a dispensable part of his game – leaving his mind as a new goal became clear. He knew now, he had seen in her eyes and heard in what she had said to him that she could never love him after this. The truth was, the love she had pledged for him had been born of fear the loved she had pretended to feel for his father had been. The honest truth was that she despised him, he was a scupper on her plans with her new family and she would never again call him her son. Especially not now that he had made clear his intentions for the two others she had replaced him with. That was why his mind had changed - because he had finally had his eyes opened and he had decided that if he couldn't have her for his mother or anything else for that matter, then neither could anyone else.<p>

As he began to cover the short distance between them, he felt all the love he had thought he had in his heart for her just disappear. In its place was something far more thrilling than that feeble emotion –hatred. Pure, black, potent and angry hatred. It fuelled him, exhilarated him and pushed him forward and in that moment he swore he could feel his father's embrace, welcoming him into the family business. The thought of the knife sliding into her chest cavity finding her heart and ending her life gave him great pleasure as he came level with her.

It didn't take much to knock her off her feet, to make her subordinate to him and to incapacitate her. He loomed over her, his blond hair falling wildly in front of his eyes as he wondered why she didn't even attempt to fight him off. Maybe because one Doyle had been enough for her.

He bent over her, the knife poised for the kill as he murmured "I could have loved you."

* * *

><p>The knife met with more resistance than he was expecting and as he pulled back to assess the reason why, he noticed what he had failed to before now...<p>

Jack Hotchner had thrown himself between the knife and Emily and Declan had managed to lodge it in the boy's shoulder. He let out a feral scream as he attempted to drive it further into the body of the limp child, hoping that he could go right through him and directly into Emily but it simply wasn't working...

* * *

><p>Everything was happening in a blur. She barely remembered being thrown to the floor before she felt a small body shielding her from the impending knife attack. She had tried to push him off but he had clung to her, refusing to let her go.<p>

"I'm a toy soldier, I'll protect you." He murmured and then she had heard him cry out in pain.

She tried to tackle Declan to get him away from them, but the weight of Jack's limp body against her was too much for her weakened body to take and she could hardly manage. She thought fleetingly of her baby, hoping that no damage had been done but she realised that right now, Aaron's son living, breathing needed her more if he was going to stay that way. At the precise moment when she thought she would have to abandon hope, the rooftop door was thrown open and she was mildly aware of voices issuing instructions. All of sudden Declan had sprung up into a defensive position and she could finally tend to Jack. She forced herself into a sitting position and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly as he stirred a little against her.

"DECLAN DOYLE, PUT DOWN THE KNIFE AND GET ON THE GROUND!" Someone from the tactical team yelled as Declan raised the weapon in front of him again.

"I WON'T!" Declan screamed, holding his wrist out and slashing it angrily. He yelped out in pain but did not disengage eye contact with the lead agent.

"Declan, please... Put down the knife – Enough now, please that's enough!" Emily begged desperately.

"_You_! Don't _you_ speak to me! You made _your_ choice." He indicated towards Jack with a flick of his head.

He took the knife in his bloodied hand, his ability to do so weakened by his blood loss, but he still managed it somehow, cutting deeply into his other arm.

"Doyle drop it. Last chance." The same voice yelled.

"What're YOU going to do?" Declan screamed.

* * *

><p>There were no more words, only the sound of a gunshot.<p>

* * *

><p>"Oh God." Rossi murmured glancing upwards. From the ground they had a very limited view of what was happening on that rooftop. Just before the tactical team had been deployed and had raided the building, the team had seen Declan tackle Emily to the ground, but beyond that there had been nothing but the occasional scream or the sound of Declan or Emily's voice battling for dominance.<p>

Perhaps the worst thing though was that they could not see Jack, so they could not ascertain his status. They had been listening intently to the frequency of the lead agent on the rooftop, but as far as they could tell, Jack's name had not been mentioned.

JJ moved from where she had been rooted to the spot after the shot had been fired and approached Hotch who was crouched low to the ground, his hands over his ears as he rocked slightly. She knelt silently beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder in a motion of solidarity.

"My family. What has he done to my family?" He asked, tears running down his cheeks. In that moment Agent Aaron Hotchner became just a man...

* * *

><p>"DECLAN! Oh God... Declan. What have you done?" Emily yelled accusingly at the tactical team, shrugging herself free of the agent who was helping her up.<p>

She was powerless to stop another of the agents as they lifted Jack from her arms and she was vaguely aware of their request for EMT support. She wiped fiercely at her tears with the backs of her hands and rushed towards what she knew was the lifeless form of the boy who had once been considered her son.

Her hands shook as she touched him, rolling his body towards her. His hair stuck to the side of his face and his eyes stared blankly up at her, their piercing crystal blue accusing her of things she knew she was not guilty of.

There, just between his eyebrows in the centre of his forehead was the single bullet wound – a tiny blot on his otherwise cherubim looking face, tracing the path of the thing that had killed him. She scooped his body towards her, holding him tightly.

"I'm sorry." She murmured and it was true. She was sorry that she hadn't been there for him when he needed her, sorry that his father had been Ian Doyle, sorry that she had never truly accepted Declan's true identity and sorry that it had come to this. She was just really, really sorry.

She let him rest against the concrete of the rooftop, sweeping his hair back off his face and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before she got herself, with some difficulty, to her feet. "Find some peace now little soul." She murmured, knowing it was the last thing she could or would say to him, useless as it now seemed.

* * *

><p>She watched almost without seeing as EMTs rushed the scene, quickly plying Jack with the medical attention he needed and then suddenly there were arms around her, big brawny, familiar arms and a familiar strong embrace being offered. It wasn't that of her husband who was currently, she could just see, bent over his son as he should be, willing him to live – but rather that of her partner in the field – Derek Morgan and he wasn't letting go.<p>

"He's gone." She murmured, her voice sounding hollow.

"I know Princess, I know." He soothed as her sobs shook even his muscular physique. If there was one thing he could not stand it was to see a woman cry.

"It's Ok, it's Ok." He muttered and she pulled away roughly, creating some distance between them.

"How is it ever... AHHHHH!" Her retort was interrupted by the sharp cry she let out and the way the she redoubled in pain.

"What's the matter Princess?" Morgan asked, catching her before she fell and letting her grip him tightly.

"Morgan... I think..." She started to reply but she didn't need to finish the sentence since the evidence of what she was going to say made itself known.

"Uh Hotch?" Morgan yelled, looking over his shoulder to locate his SSAIC who had multiple roles to fulfil on this rooftop. First and foremost he was the SSAIC but more importantly he was the panicked and distraught father and right now, he needed to be the attentive and concerned husband too.

"Hotch man, we've got a problem." He shouted as he witnessed Emily's waters breaking...

* * *

><p><strong>On that note (another cliff hanger no less, I am off to hop, skip and jump to hide behind the sofa until someone tells me it's safe to come out again. <strong>

**I hope you don't hate me too much and will let me know what you thought of it. I guess now it's going to be even more twisty and turny than usual... If you're sticking with me that is ;-) **

**I hope I caught all the edits if not, please forgive me. Oh and the differences in spacing and the ridiculous number of line breaks is very dilberate in this chapter, I hope you didn't find it too annoying it was jsut my little way of keeping you on your toes and changing perspectivees quickly. I'll get right on the next update... if you still want it... :S ASAP, promise. **

**Thank you for reading,**

**Love always, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	13. Love's Labour

**Hey lovely people :-) **

**Thank you so much for your reviews and the interest on the last chapter, I know I took a risk and began to decimate the storyline but I felt like it needed a change and I'm glad that you stuck with me. So I'm going to plunge right back into it and keep on going. I've got another two chapters at least planned and then I need to think about where this goes, I just want to finish it off it a style that works for the rest of the story, I guess with this one I didn't like to think of the end of it but it is approaching, it has to at some point. For now... Onwards... **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. The title of this chapter is inspired by the play 'Love's Labour Lost' by William Shakespeare because it seemed to fit and I am currently obsessed with all things Shakespeare owing to my new job. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>~ "A baby is God's opinion that life should go on" ~ Carl Sandburg. <em>

Her head was groggy. That was the first thought that popped into her head as she woke, something, the scraping of metal against linoleum to be precise, having roused her from her uneasy and induced slumber. For a moment she did not open her eyes, choosing instead to listen. At first her ears were only greeted by silence but then she became aware of the quiet whisperings of two female voices. _She did not want to know_. As sleep released her, she realised what she had latently known since her moment of waking – the sticky tracks of dried tears. _She did not want to know._ After a few moments more she opened her eyes, quickly blinking them shut again as the strobe lights overhead proved to be too bright. She ran her tongue slowly along her bottom lip, moistening her skin and attempting to find her voice.

"Hey." She murmured, her voice raspy as she opened her eyes and found herself staring up in the worried eyes of Penelope Garcia.

The other woman jumped at the intrusion into her reverie and tried to fix a smile on her face in spite of the inherent worry which was clearly there "Em?" That was about all she could manage.

"Expecting someone else?" She tried for some humour but she sensed it was misplaced. She shifted then, becoming aware of two things at once. One she was on her side, we wouldn't have seemed odd – it was how she had been sleeping for months now- but there was something wrong and that something had to do with the fact that she couldn't feel her bump anymore. She couldn't feel her baby. She said nothing, staring up at her friend with stricken eyes, desperate for some answers.

"Honey what you do remember?" JJ spoke up from the other side of her bed and Emily turned towards the sound of her friend's voice, shifting onto her back. She paused. What_ did_ she remember?

* * *

><p><em>The pain was intense, she had never felt anything like it and she knew that was wrong. She had never given birth before but she knew the pain she felt now was not right. It wasn't supposed to feel like this – like her heart was being ripped right out of her chest. <em>

_She let out a low moan as she sank her short fingernails into her friend and partner's shoulders and listened as he called wildly to Aaron who, undoubtedly, felt torn right now. She would give anything for this to go away and yet she knew there was only one way to make that happen and the thought of that scared her. She chanced a glance over Derek's shoulder to where the CSIs were currently attending to Declan and she watched as two of them zipped him into a body bag - such a young life- and lifted him onto a gurney. _

"_Nooo!" She knew the sound was intended as a protest but it sounded more like an outright wail of despair, which she reasoned, is exactly what it had been. _

"_Emily, don't look." Derek told her in his deep and calming voice although even this could have little effect on her right now. _

"_They're taking him away."She mumbled. _

"_Don't look." He instructed again and buried her head in his shoulder. "We have to get you to a hospital, now." He continued, signalling to one of the many EMTs flooding the rooftop. _

"_I can't Derek, I can't." She almost begged as the EMT guided her away towards the fire escape. _

"_Yes you can, look at me" he told her "you can do this Princess. We'll all be there." _

"_What about Jack?" She asked shooting a look towards the little boy. _

"_Jack's going to be fine." Derek told her with more confidence than he felt as he glanced at the boy who looked equally as lifeless as Declan as the EMTs worked on him. _

_The ride in the ambulance had been short and she cried the whole way, not even sure if her tears resulted from the physical pain or the pain in her heart. This of course made things difficult for the professionals who weren't sure how they could help her. _

_She was wheeled through the halls of the hospital and it was only as they drew closer to the delivery suite that she began to become more distressed. She lashed out, she screamed and shouted, she cried for Aaron and she realised that she was completely alone. Never had she felt worse and she told the midwife that she couldn't do this. She heard someone say that she should calm down, the rise in her blood pressure was not good for the baby and then there was a sobering voice and a sharp scratch and after that..._

* * *

><p>"Nothing." She lied, the word tasting bitter on her tongue and she could see in JJ's eyes that she didn't buy it either.<p>

"Honey they had to sedate you, you were too stressed to go through natural delivery..." Penelope told her pausing a moment. "Your baby was delivered safely three hours ago." She finished with as bright a smile as she could muster under the circumstances.

Emily knew she what she was supposed to say, had known from the moment she had remembered what she was supposed to be saying but she simply couldn't find it within herself to address what had happened yet.

"How's Jack?" She asked instead of asking them what they wanted her to.

"Emily, don't you want to know..."

"How's Jack." She repeated again, her tone bristly.

"Jack is... still in surgery. Aaron's down on the paediatric ward waiting for him now." Penelope murmured knowing how hard this was for JJ to deal with, a mother who didn't seem to care.

Emily curled herself tightly into a ball hoping to escape their disappointed faces but either way she turned she was met with sad eyes.

"Emily, you have a" Emily raised a quick hand to stop the words before JJ could speak them.

"Don't tell me JJ." She instructed, closing her eyes and trying to pretend that her family had not just been ripped apart.

JJ doubled back, not even recognising the woman who just a few short days ago had been telling her how impatient she was to meet little Hotchner. "You know, maybe you don't want to know, for whatever reason, but you_ do_ have a daughter and she needs you." JJ told her and then, with another scrape of her chair against the lino, she was gone.

Emily was forced into stunned silence firstly at the way JJ had just left but secondly and perhaps more importantly, at the news that she had a daughter. It was like a dream come true which she just couldn't take and she hated that feeling. "I asked her not to tell me." Emily repeated, turning away from Penelope and closing her eyes.

* * *

><p>"Are you awake?" A familiar voice asked and although she wasn't sure she could face him, there was a burning question in her mind that she knew only he could answer.<p>

She said nothing at first and simply nodded, opening her eyes and pulling herself up. "Is he alright?" She asked quietly when they were face to face and she could see how haggard and worried he looked right now.

"Emily, oh thank God, thank God you're alright. I've been so worried." Aaron replied, moving closer to her and attempting to place a hand on her cheek but she shrugged him off.

"Is he alright?" She seemed desperate.

"He's been out of surgery for a few hours now, he's groggy and in pain but the doctor said he's going to be fine. The knife didn't penetrate any major veins or arteries and the muscle it did cut will heal with therapy. He's sleeping now but he's Ok." Aaron sounded greatly relieved and even allowed himself a small smile and whilst she was genuinely pleased – nothing made her happier - she couldn't bring herself to share his outright joy. The loss she had sustained today was still at the back of her mind.

"Aaron?" She posed his name as a question in order to change the subject to more morose matters.

"What is it?" He asked, letting her control the situation. He had spoken with JJ and it appeared that however much it grieved him to admit, his wife was in denial and for some reason refused to acknowledge the existence of their daughter.

"What about Declan?" She whispered and as he looked at her, seeing the tears sparkling in her eyes, he knew this was one thing she_ had_ accepted, something she knew without having to ask.

"Emily he's gone." He told her, his voice deadpan as he found himself unable to contemplate or express the same level of emotion she was displaying. He understood, of course he did, but after what had happened to Jack and to her he simply couldn't forgive the boy even if he was now dead.

Tears spilled silently down her cheeks as she took in this information, her head nodding a few times in what seemed to be open acknowledgement of this fact and the sight of her in this much pain made his heart ache. He sat tentatively on the edge of the bed, gripping her hand and drawing it to his lips, pressing a firm and singular kiss to the skin there. It seemed to be the only thing he could do right now. He couldn't say he was sorry because that simply wasn't the case. As much as he felt her pain, he could not say that he wasn't pleased that they were finally free of Doyle and all connections to him, it would make him feel safer, much as it had done after Foyet had died, to know that no one could hurt Jack like that again. Of course, this wasn't a realistic world-view. Declan's attack on his son and the older boy's subsequent death were proof that even in their job, the good guys would always be outnumbered. There were always going to be more evil people in the world, posing potential or actual threats to his son and his family and he hated the feeling of weakness which came as a result of realising something he had tried to deny. That he was human and he couldn't singlehandedly defeat everything bad which might touch his life and the lives of those he loved.

After a while she leant forward, reaching out to him and he pulled her into the embrace he knew she wanted, feeling the way her body shook in his arms.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered burying her head against his shirt. "I didn't know." She continued.

He pulled back a little then so that he could look her right in the eye. "Listen to me Emily; I don't want to hear you talking that way. This was not your fault; there was no way on Earth that we could have foreseen this." He insisted although the dullness in her eyes told him she didn't believe him.

"But I'm supposed to be a profiler." She protested tearfully.

"Sometimes even that doesn't save us. Look at what happened with Foyet. My emotions, my ego even, stopped me from putting the pieces together and then it was too late. This is the same thing but the difference is, this isn't the end. Jack's fine and he's going to make a full recovery and you're fine and we have... a beautiful little daughter Emily." He told her, letting those final words settle for a moment.

She blew out a slow breath for several moments before she wiped away her tears, trying desperately to pull herself together. "I'm sorry. I know she should have been the first thing I thought of, but how could I when I was so worried about Jack and about you?" She asked his forgiveness though she could see in his face she already had it.

"Emily I understand. I know how difficult this is, but I'm begging you – please don't shut our daughter out. She really needs her Mommy." Hotch told her and she felt even more guilty than before.

"I just feel so guilty, this was going to be perfect. Our little family and now it's all in ruins." She told him her voice breaking as more tears became stifled in her throat.

"It's not ruined Emily, it's just a little different from the way that we imagined it would be, that's all. I know this isn't the way that we imagined this was going to be, but our children need us and_ I_ need _you_ Emily." He told her, his voice brimming with love.

"I need you too." She replied and as he kissed her, she knew it was true.

"Tell me about her." She murmured after a moment and she could feel his smile against her skin.

"She's perfect Emily, she really is. She looks just like you. Beautiful big eyes and perfect pink lips, she has hair as dark as yours already... She's beautiful." He told her and he really sounded like a proud father. "Shall I ask one of the nurse's to bring her in?" He asked, knowing it was a risk.

"Aaron I want to see her, I do. But it just doesn't feel right knowing that Jack's lying in a hospital bed somewhere and he can't be a part of it. If we're going to do this, I never want either of our children to feel like they don't matter. I never want to feel like I was the reason for anything bad that happens to them again."

"Emily, you are not the reason why this happened. You're not the reason why Declan took Jack. Ian Doyle is responsible for all of this – for almost taking you away from us, for forcing you to put his son into protective custody, for killing his parents and for Declan's...death." He told her, not wanting her to feel any responsibility for this. In a psychopath's mind, they could justify anything by any means but that did not place responsibility with the trigger they had assigned or reacted to.

She smiled weakly then and he appreciated that tiny quirk of her lips more than he had ever thought possible. "Do you_ want _to see her?" He asked, trying to impart in his tone that there was no pressure.

She hesitated a moment but nodded. "I think I'd like that." She agreed.

"Wait here a minute?" He asked, realising afterwards how ridiculous that made him sound.

"Where else am I going to go?" She laughed although it still sounded tinny and distant.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later she heard a slight commotion outside the door and then suddenly he was there again armed with a wheelchair. She wrinkled at her nose at the ancient chair and raised her eyebrow.<p>

"I am not getting in that thing!" She protested.

"Do you want to see our daughter or not?" He asked, his tone playful as he pointed to her and then to the chair as if to give her a silent instruction.

"Are you sure I'm Ok to do this?" She asked, appreciating the hand he offered her as she struggled to get into the chair.

"The midwife said as long as you stay in the chair you'll be fine and if you feel at all unwell I'm to return you up here immediately."

"Up here? Where are you taking me?" She asked full of suspicion now.

"You'll see." He told her, wheeling her from the room and heading towards the room where their daughter was waiting.

* * *

><p>Emily leaned in close to the plastic which acted as the only shield between her and her daughter. She drew a hand quickly to her mouth as she felt a fresh bout of tears coming on just from the simple act of watching her. It was almost as if she didn't trust herself to speak. What she noticed first was how peaceful her baby looked, sleeping soundly like she didn't have a care in the world; like she didn't have to worry about a thing. Emily supposed that was right , worrying was her job and that was exactly what she was doing now. Worrying that any minute she was going to wake up and they would tell her that the fall she had taken on that rooftop meant that she had lost the baby, worried that something evil would burst her daughter's innocent little bubble the way that Jack's had been, she worried she could never love her enough, she worried she could love her too much, she worried she would never be good enough to take care of her, she worried she didn't deserve this third chance...<p>

"Do you think she's cold?" She asked, surprising herself with this reaction. Nothing about the way that she was handling this was normal. But then she had reason to be out of sorts – after everything that had happened today and indeed after becoming a mother at a time in her life when she had thought that dream was dead, she was finding the shock a little difficult to say the least. There was just something about the way she was laid in the hospital crib in the ill fitting hospital issue romper that made her feel like their daughter was not warm enough.

"You know, I think if she was cold she'd find a way to tell us." He smiled loving the slightly gooey tone of his wife's voice. It was exactly the way he had been talking to their daughter each time he had come in to check that she wasn't a mirage.

"I can't believe this happened today, we weren't ready... I had her own clothes ready for her." She mused.

"Em, honey, news flash – babies don't always stick to the plan, sometimes they want to meet us sooner. As for her own things and yours, JJ's on it."

"Ugh, I was so mean to her. Poor JJ. It's a miracle she'd do anything for me. She must think I'm the worst Mom in the world." Emily replied thinking back to the flippant way she had handled her friend's attempts to be supportive.

"Well I don't know which JJ you're talking about but the JJ I know doesn't think that at all and she certainly isn't mad. She's just sad that this day got spoiled for you. It should be the happiest moment of your life – meeting your child for the first time. She just doesn't think it's fair that after everything you've been through recently, this would happen too. So no, she doesn't think badly of you and yes, your friend has gone to collect the things I thought you'd need whilst you're up here. The doctor said you'd have to be here for a couple extra nights because of the surgery. They want to make sure you're Ok. So hey, we can make it a family affair." He told her trying to make light of the situation.

"It isn't ruined though right? It's like you said?" She asked desperately.

"Of course it is. We just started a little differently that's all. That doesn't mean this moment hasn't been everything it should have been." He told her, knowing she needed placating in this way.

"She's so tiny." Emily whispered, trying not to wake her.

"The doctor said we're lucky. She's a little early but she's perfectly healthy and she's going to be fine." He assured her and he saw how much this relieved her.

"Thank God." She murmured catching hold of his arm and giving it a light squeeze of gratitude.

She laid her hand against the plastic again and studied her daughter. She was every bit as beautifully perfect as Aaron had described and more. She was miracle, a blessing and despite her initial reluctance, Emily knew she had fallen in love with her from the second she had laid eyes on her.

"You can touch her you know. She's yours... ours. No one is going to tell you not to." Aaron told her knowing that she was itching to hold her, to cradle her and know that in her arms she was completely safe. These were all the emotions he had felt the first time he had seen her too.

"I don't want to hurt her, she looks like a porcelain doll. What if she breaks?" Emily asked and he knew she was being completely serious but he still couldn't help the laugh which escaped him.

She scowled a little and he held up his hands in defeat "I'm sorry, I'm sorry it's just... you are just so cute." He continued laughing.

"Cute? Since when have you ever called me cute?" She wrinkled her nose in the endearing way she always did when something didn't sit well with her.

"You know, it's nice for me to see you like this." He told her seriously, stepping closer to the crib.

"Oh well, I'm glad to be of entertainment value!" She quipped as she watched him lean over the crib and gently lift their daughter out.

As Aaron held her close to his body Emily watched with an increasingly pounding heart as she began to stir. After several more seconds the little girl's eyes flicked open and she looked up at her Daddy with those big, dark eyes he had described. Emily felt like her heart was missing a beat as she watched how brilliantly he coped with her, letting her have his finger in her vice-like grip as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"What do you say little lady? Are you ready to meet your Mommy?" The tiny bundle gurgled as if in agreement and Aaron began lowering her into her mother's arms.

"Aaron wait, what if I don't do it right? I don't know how to hold her properly." She was panicking now but her arms had already made an appropriate cradle for her intuitively.

"I think you're underestimating yourself Emily." He told her as their little girl settled into the crook of her mother's arms naturally, staring up at her with amazed eyes. "That's it, just support her head." Aaron encouraged as he knelt beside the wheelchair.

Emily stared down at her daughter in wonderment for a while, not sure that this was really happening. It was like any of her dreams except that she knew, just outside these doors laid the real world. A world in which she wouldn't know how to deal with the grief she felt for a boy who had tried to kill Jack, a world in which any number of dangers laid in wait for her family and a world in which all of this had really happened.

She leant forward then, breathing in deeply and loving the smell of her daughter's skin more than any other scent she could recall. She pressed the tiniest kiss to her tiny forehead.

"Hey, look at you..." She crooned studying every inch of her face as if looking at her forever would never be enough.

"She's really ours..." She mumbled to herself.

"She's beautiful." He told her.

"Look at what we made Aaron, you and me – we made her." She murmured tearfully and he knew he had never seen her look more beautiful, he didn't think he had ever been more in love with her than he was right now.

"Pretty good workmanship huh?" He joked with a laugh.

"Pretty good doesn't even cover it. I couldn't imagine anything more perfect." She told him.

He paused for a moment, considering what she had said before replying, "I can think of one thing" as he disengaged the brake on her wheelchair and they moved towards the door.

"Aaron what are you doing? Can we just take her like this?"

"She's ours Emily." He replied pushing her in the direction of the elevator.

* * *

><p>They had descended four floors and as they made their way along the checkerboard corridors, Emily took notice of the signs, realising that they were heading toward paediatrics as they rounded the corner.<p>

"Aaron, are you sure he's well enough for visitors?" She asked nervously, stroking her thumb across their daughter's cheek as she whimpered a little.

"That's why I was gone so long; I came back down here to check with Jack's doctor. He said he thought it would be good for him to see you and his new sister to take his mind off everything else. So long as he keeps that arm immobile he'll be fine." Aaron assured her.

"You're sure he'll want to see me?" She asked, thinking about the way that Jack had thrown himself between her and Declan.

"Emily, he loves you and he's been worried about you. He needs to know that you're Ok but more importantly, you need to see that he is too." He told her.

"Ok." She agreed as he wheeled her out onto the children's ward.

The first thing she noticed as they stopped at his bedside was how small he look swathed beneath the starched white sheets in the bed. His eyes were closed but he did not look at peace. Every so often he would mumble in his sleep and his face would twitch. She knew he was probably having a nightmare about what happened and she hated that not only had she been the cause of that nightmare but she also couldn't ever take it approached the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning over his son, placing a tiny kiss to his forehead. "It's Ok buddy." He soothed as he gripped his left hand, the hand which had been unaffected by the knife.

Jack seemed to visibly relax as his father held him and after a while, his eyes drifted open and he stared up at Aaron in mild confusion. "Daddy? Is he gone?" He asked the panic in his voice like a knife in Emily's own heart.

"It was just a dream Jack; I promise he's gone he can't hurt you anymore." Aaron soothed knowing how hard this had to be for Emily to hear.

"I was brave right?" Jack asked, looking for assurance from his hero.

Emily took this opportunity to speak, knowing she was the only person who truly knew how brave Jack had been on that rooftop. "Jack you were the bravest person up there and you're the reason I'm alive, you saved me. Thank you." She told him, her gratitude clear as she wondered what it said about her to know that she had been saved by two children recently. She wondered if she should even be in the FBI at all.

"Emily? Are you Ok?" He asked, brightening at the realisation that she was present and indeed alive and well.

"I'm fine honey. How're you doing?" Her concern dripped from each word.

"I'm Ok, the doctor says I have to wear this splint for a while but I'm lucky." He assured her brightly, sounding like he really believed it.

"_We're_ lucky to have_ you_." Emily smiled reaching out and taking his hand, the movement jostled the baby a little and she gurgled.

"Is that her?" Jack asked excited, noticing his sister for the first time and leaning forward to get a better view.

"Here she is- your little sister." Emily replied holding her out for the inspection of her very proud older brother.

"She's so small." Jack commented, brushing his fingers lightly against her cheek and delighting as she reached up and gripped his finger tightly.

"See she loves you already." Aaron smiled, the warmth in his voice unmistakable.

"I love her too and I love you both." He replied, the smile accompanying this admission completely honest.

"We love you too." Emily told him and it was true, right now in this room they were in a bubble and the only emotion which touched them was love.

"What's her name?" Jack asked after a while and Emily couldn't believe they hadn't thought of it before now.

"Did you come up with anything?" She asked looking towards Aaron. They hadn't really discussed names all that much, they had been too afraid to speculate and besides, they had wanted to meet their child before naming him or her – they wanted the name to fit after all.

"I couldn't decide, nothing seemed to suit her, so I had Garcia help me out with some research, I felt like we needed something special... given everything." He replied, noticing the tension and pausing to assess her reaction.

"What did you come up with?" She asked, her interest arrested now.

"Well there was one that stuck out."

"Oh?" She pressed.

"Thea." The name settled in the air and she smiled at the sound of it, it was nice. Simple and beautiful. "It means miracle." Aaron finished and Emily knew that he had really put a great deal of thought into this.

"So now we have two little miracles." Emily smiled accepting the name. Thea Hotchner. It meant a lot to her and always would, not simply because every day she would be reminded of this miracle, but because every day she could say that her daughter was a Hotchner and to her, there was nothing better.

"Yes we do." Aaron agreed, catching hold of the hand which rested atop Jack's on the bed in an effort to connect them to each other.

As Emily sat in that room cradling her baby or watching Aaron do the same as Jack slowly drifted back into a happier slumber, she realised that she truly was the luckiest woman alive. Losing Declan was devastating and she knew she would suffer the effects of the loss, but she realised now that she had never really had him in the first place. From the moment of his conception he had belonged to Doyle and she understood that now. What had seemed important only an hour ago, dwelling on the many ways she had failed in life and on all the things she had lost, now seemed less important. It was as if this baby truly was a miracle, a gift from God a reminder that life could go on. In that moment she realised that the love truly was a labour, it had to be worked at and it wasn't always easy but here in this room with her family, it certainly wasn't lost. In fact, she had a feeling it might just have been found...

* * *

><p><strong>Ok so there it is, I hope you enjoyed it and that is was an appropriate follow on from the previous chapter. I never planned to detail the labour I always planned for her to wake up afterwards and her initial reaction was going to be the one I ran with for the whole chapter but then I thought about the scope of the whole chapter and realised that in the entirety of the story, this worked better. Just a sneak peek into my mind for you – trust me you don't want to spend too much time there! Ha! <strong>

**I did some research trying to find an appropriate name and I came with Thea since the literal translation is 'miracle'. I hope you like it. **

**Please don't hesitate to let me know what you thought, reviews make me day sparkly – it's actually true! If I have failed to catch all the edits please forgive me. **

**Thank you as always for reading. **

**Much love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	14. Experienced Innocence

**Hey lovely people, **

**Thank you for your reviews on the previous chapter of this, I appreciate the support more than you and I feel bad that I have been slightly neglectful of this one in favour of another one I'm writing, I hope to rectify that and to indeed get this one finished. I think I came up with the endgame of this one last night so I know where I'm going with it. I have another chapter planned which kind of accompanies this, then possibly one more, then the ending so hopefully giving myself some direction will help me get it finished and then maybe I'll start a new project. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds, its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics. Also the quotation used here comes from **_**The No.1 Ladies Detective Agency **_**by Alexander McCall Smith, so credit where it's due.**

**I hope you enjoy this one and feel free to let me know what you think...**

* * *

><p><em>"To lose a child ... was something that could end one's world. One could never get back to how it was before. The stars went out. The moon disappeared. The birds became silent"~ Alexander McCall Smith. <em>

She hadn't moved in three hours, she hadn't bothered to take off her dress, even though wearing it made it seem like she couldn't breathe. She hadn't taken off the four inch heels she had worn, had barely even noticed when one had fallen from her foot and landed heavily on the carpet. She simply laid on the bed, her knees tucked up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them as if she really believed that assuming the foetal position could protect her from the world and more significantly from her feelings.

She hadn't noticed the darkness which had crept slowly upon the house, drawing this nightmarish day to a close. She _had_ however noticed the sound of the baby crying in the overbearing and throbbing silence which now filled the house. Even this had not been enough to rouse her and so she had ignored everything, everyone, had remained curled up here in the hope that if she stayed long enough, her existence might come to a peaceful end. It seemed the only option after a day like today.

She remembered it as if through a fog, almost as if her mind was trying to suggest that it was all a distant memory even though only a few short hours had passed since she had bid him a final goodbye. Still, she never failed to surprise herself with her ability to compartmentalise, to view things clinically and to keep that hard solid stone wall around her heart. She was grateful for this skill now, it gave her the distance she needed to reflect on the day's events without completely surrendering her emotional integrity, but it had left her in a strangely catatonic state she was not quite sure she would ever want to leave again.

_She remembered the way the pall bearers had carried the coffin, their slow, somber gait affording him respect and not discriminating between him and any other person they had conveyed here. To them, he was not mentally unstable, he was not a kidnapper, he did not exhibit oedipal tendencies, he was just a boy and he was dead. She remembered the way the pastor at the church had begun the service, she remembered the way she had stared straight ahead, a single stoic tear escaping her, her only emotional allowance. She remembered the way a hand had settled on hers, giving a light and supportive squeeze which said 'I understand'. She had been grateful and admittedly surprised that her six friends, colleagues, her family had accompanied her. It wasn't so much that she hadn't expected them to support her, she just knew that they felt the damage he had inflicted even two weeks after the event, she knew they would always feel that way and that only made her more appreciative of them. Nevertheless, even surrounded by the ones who loved her, she had never felt so alone. _

That was why she ensconced herself in here, it was the one connection she had to him now and as the nearest thing he had to a mother, she felt that she had a right to grieve him even if the others were mildly relieved to see him out of her life and the lives of her family.

Perhaps she was being selfish, maybe her husband would think her deluded but frankly, the only thing that mattered was staying exactly where she was. It was the only thing which made logical sense or which felt right and she needed to be here for as long as it took for the feeling to pass, if it ever would...

* * *

><p>He opened the door just a crack, noticing how dark it was inside the room and how the light of the huge moon which filtered through the window bounced around the room in bright streaks. He moved quietly, careful to ensure that he did not bang the door as he closed it behind himself. As he crept further into the room, he could see her – cocooned on the bed in a heap. She was turned away from him and didn't make any attempt to let him know that she was aware he was even there at all.<p>

He did not even pause to consider his next action, such was the strength of his decision-making and so, within a matter of seconds he had crossed the room to the bed and his knee was making the slightest depression to the mattress in the space just behind her. He said nothing as he laid his body against her back and wrapped his arms around her stomach, where his hands rested tentatively until she slid her own hands down to clasp his.

After a while, she began to shift, turning her body until she was able to cradle his own small frame in the curve she had created unwittingly in her current position. He pressed his body tightly against her, noticing how cold she seemed to be and hoping that somehow, he could warm her up. She had wrapped her own arms around him as if now, she was afraid of letting him go and she leant forward brushing the lightest kiss into his hairline, breathing in a little of his soapy clean smell as she did so.

"Hey." She whispered, her voice thick with grief she knew he couldn't understand.

"Emily, are you Ok?" He asked and although she couldn't see his face, she could clearly see the frown of concern he wore in her mind, the same frown his father adopted in the most desperate moments of a case. She had always hated that question, found it inappropriate somehow. The very nature of the questions itself told the asker that the person they questioned was most definitely not Ok, but she appreciated the sentiment. It was hard for him to understand. It had been decided almost silently that Jack would not attend the funeral. It wasn't that they were necessarily worried about his ability to understand – he had been present at his mother's funeral some years early after all – it was more that they didn't want to reopen a wound that was barely in recovery.

In the two weeks since Declan's death, since his attack on Jack, since the small boy's selfless bid to rescue her, they had tried everything to shelter him from entertaining thoughts of that day on the rooftop. Some nights, he would wake screaming, the pain of the nightmare he had been torn from combining with the pain in his shoulder so that sleep was impossible and so they had concluded that keeping him away was the best thing for him. Although she had yet to acknowledge the fact today, their living children were their priority now and they had to work towards their future.

She considered his question for a while, deciding how best to answer it. The truth was that even though they hadn't lived together all that long, Jack had been as quick to _find her tells _as his father had been and so could tell when she was lying. On past occasions, she had been able to cover up her true feelings with a practised mask of indifference or happiness but this seemed to be too much to hide and so she did the only thing she could do, replied in the only way she saw fit for the child – with honesty.

"No honey, I'm not." She sighed and somehow, despite the guilt she felt at unburdening herself to him, it felt good to say what she really felt for once. It was the first time she had done so since the day he had died.

"Do you miss Declan?" Jack asked quietly, the thought of the older boy making him shudder.

"I do. But the Declan who lived here wasn't the real Declan. Not the little boy I knew once. You have to understand Jack, Declan was very sick." Emily murmured, tears causing her voice to shake.

"Shouldn't we have bought him some medicine then? To make him better..." Jack mused, making the innocent connection between 'sick' and 'better' which made her feel hopeful for the future.

"Honey I don't think any kind of medicine would have helped him. I don't think anyone could help him."

"Not even you? Not even Daddy?" He asked – why couldn't his superheroes help?

"Nope, not this time. Especially not me, see I made him very unhappy." She told him, hating to admit this.

"But how could you make him unhappy when you loved him so much?" He seemed to be unable to comprehend how love could be tantamount to unhappiness. In his innocent view of the world, this hardly seemed possible.

"You're right. I did love him. A lot. It's just sometimes some people can't feel the kind of love we can give them. They think that it means that we don't love them enough, or at all."

"But that's not true... You did love him. I saw you, I know." Jack declared, as if it truly was possible to _see_ all the ways she had loved Declan and for a minute, she thought that this just might be true.

"Sometimes loving someone, it isn't enough Jack." She sighed at this universally acknowledged truth.

They were silent for the longest time and she enjoyed the quiet, which gave her a chance to listen to his breathing and once again to be grateful that he was alive. After this pause, he spoke again, redirecting her attentions to other, more complicated subjects.

"Emily, do you think that Declan will always be unhappy... in Heaven?"

She felt fresh tears pricking at her eyes now as she realised that she had to face up to the fact that he was indeed gone and would never return from this absence the way he had the first time. Before she answered, she wondered in the deepest, darkest and most secret parts of her own mind if faking Declan's death all those years ago had been a precursor, an omen leading to this... to the enforced absence of a child from her life, to the finality of the death of one so young.

"You know, I think in Heaven, everyone is happy. The angels make sure they are. I think where he is now, Declan might finally find the peace he never could here. Nobody can hurt him anymore." She told him resolutely, needing to believe it almost as much as she needed him to.

"Mm and he can't hurt anyone else anymore can he? Not Daddy or you or Thea... or me." He added, mentioning all the members of his family before himself and reminding her of the sacrifice he had almost made for her.

Absent-mindedly, she allowed her fingers to trace the splint he still wore on his arm, a requirement for the immobilisation of his shoulder whilst the muscle healed. As she ran her hand along the hard white plastic, she thought about what a double edged knife the splint was proving to be. Whilst it was essential for his initial and immediate recovery, the doctor had told them that in the long term, the necessity of wearing it could hinder and even prevent his ability to regain full function in his arm and that scared her more than anything. What if he could never write again, what if he could never hold his baseball bat for little league after school, what if she had been the cause of this permanent taint for him? She had not forgiven herself for failing to protect him, for allowing him to take the rage of Declan's knife and she never would as long as she lived, no matter how many times Aaron told her there was little she could have done or that it wasn't her fault, no matter how many times she looked upon Jack's face and saw nothing but utter forgiveness, complete love there.

"How's this doing?" She asked with genuine concern, meaning of course his injured shoulder.

"It's not so bad." He told her, in that quick manner that told her it was only a half truth. Not that she really had to decode his answer much to know that. The kept him dosed on his medication when he was supposed to have it and they could see the notable improvement in his demeanour when the pain subsided for those few hours, but in the moments when the effects of the medication began to wear off, she would see him wince in pain whilst trying to brave-face it – as much for his father's benefit as for hers - and she hated knowing that there really was little else she could do to alleviate his pain.

"You were so brave Jack and I could say thank you a thousand times and it still wouldn't be enough."

"You shouldn't have to thank someone for something they do because they love you." Jack replied, a little sleepily she thought. "I love you Emily." He promised.

"I love you too baby." She told him, feeling slightly strange for having called him 'baby' for the first time, but it had just felt so natural and right.

"Daddy and Thea too?" He asked and she knew this was the heart of the issue. He had come in here because she was acting strangely, distancing herself from them and clearly, he had wanted to check that this wasn't because she didn't love them anymore.

Emily thought about the frankness of this question. It demanded love from her without disguise and she knew that in this way, Jack was still very much a child and she loved that what he had been through hadn't taken that away from him, but there were the darker moments – asking her for example, whether she still loved them, which spoke volumes of the experiences which had been somewhat forced upon him and she felt fresh guilt rising in her again. Naturally, she didn't really have to consider this question at all, the answer was clear it was just, in the two weeks since Declan's death, things had seemed less clear cut. Now she realised they had never been simpler. She had sustained a loss, no one would deny her that but she had a future, she had to move on.

"Of course Daddy and Thea too." She replied without further hesitation.

The more she thought about this however, the more she realised that this was only a percentage of the truth. In the days since her birth, Emily had found that she had been unable to connect with her tiny daughter. Despite loving her more than words could say and knowing immediately that she would do anything for her, she had been robbed of that bonding process by her grief and by the hours she had been unconscious. Sometimes in the stark hours of the morning when she would sit cradling her daughter in the rocker, soothing the inconsolable child, she would look into her swirling, dark eyes and she swore she could see a recognition there, a tiny beacon of acknowledgement that to her Mommy, little Thea would be something of an oddity, loved but also second to the one she loved more.

She wished it wasn't like that, she wished that she could have loved Thea from the beginning. She wished that the circumstances had been changed, different somehow because a mother should love her child. That much she knew. She wondered whether she would ever really move on, get over the loss of Declan, she wondered whether her life would ever be quite the same again, whether she could go back to the way things had been before or whether somewhere even in the darkest recesses of her mind, she would always feel like something was missing...

She'd heard people say that babies were a 'fix-it' for a relationship which was otherwise failing, in fact she knew several people who had had a 'little bundle of joy' for precisely this reason and when she had found out about Thea, she had never imagined that her daughter would be a 'fix-it', in fact the more that she thought about it, the more uncertain she became about exactly what Thea had been supposed to be. Any 'normal' mother would have said that she was the thing which made her complete, but the truth was there had been a time when, just for a second, Thea had almost not been born at all. How could she purport to protect and love her daughter when for a short time, she hadn't even been sure that she would exist? The fact of it was, Emily had lost a child and she knew nothing could be the same again... Especially not when she knew how willing she had been twice in her life to be childless and alone...

"Emily? Did you hear me?" Jack murmured, his voice heavy with sleep but powerful enough to rouse her from her dark thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"I said Thea's crying." He repeated and then she could hear nothing but her daughter howling for the one thing that she didn't have – her mother.

"It's Ok. Daddy's with her." She tried to assure him.

"But she's hungry, can't you hear her? She needs" he paused, a loud yawn escaping him "you." He finished, making her feel even more guilty than she thought was possible and that was when she knew for sure – his innocence was now experienced.

"You're right. Of course you are. Come on, let's get you to bed and then I'll go see if she's Ok, Ok?"

"Ok." He agreed as she got off the bed and lifted him into her arms with more than a little difficulty, needing that closeness and ignoring the fact that he could have walked by himself.

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><p>She tried to make excuses to herself as she laid there, her arm settled over Jack's body and her face stained with tears. Leaving now could wake him and she shouldn't do that when he had just gotten to sleep. She was bound to bang the door and he would wake up, the light from the upstairs landing would rouse him from the good dream she could tell he was having because of the way his breathing was settled and steady and she did not want to be the reason for another nightmare. But she couldn't justify it any longer, there was someone who needed her more.<p>

She got up, straightened her dress and wiped her eyes as she made her way towards the door. The truth was, as much as she might have wanted to curl up in a ball in Declan's room forever and forget the real world beyond its walls, life itself was pushing on and she had to go with it because she couldn't live like Havisham, caught in a time loop wherein Declan was that angelic, cherubim little five year old who hadn't yet been touched by the evil of his father and she was that slightly naive CIA operative who had been more than a little bit in love with the mark of her operation. In reality of course, she was now an FBI agent and she couldn't hide away from that responsibility and the very different oath she had sworn. Added to that were her responsibilities as a wife and a mother and she knew that right now, she was failing miserably at these two more personal facets of her life and she needed to work them if she ever hoped to move past this.

She tried to pull herself together stopping to check her reflection in the hall mirror and fixing her hair a little before scrubbing at the tearstains and patting at her cheeks in order to encourage some colour back onto her pale face. She drew in a long breath and held it, trying to stop a fresh onslaught of tears before it even began and she made her way along the corridor towards their bedroom. She paused for a moment, feeling ever so slightly on the outside of her own life as she listened to his deep voice adopt a softer tone as he tried to comfort their daughter and the loud cries of the baby as it became clear that her father could not satisfy her. Emily knew only she could give the child what she wanted and for a moment, she felt the selfish desire not to give it to her. As far as Emily was concerned, the light had gone out of the world, _the moon no longer shone_ and nothing would ever be right again. But she had a life. She had survived, whatever that meant and she had to continue because people needed her. Like it or not.

She steeled herself against her emotions, trying to persuade herself that to be completely devoid of all feelings was the only way to cope with this. She opened the door and her eyes fell onto the bed. For a few short seconds she was caught in a quandary. Part of her was moved by the image she was able to take in, but another much stronger part thought – _is this what home means for me now_?

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><p><strong>So there it is, I hope I haven't disappointed you with this one. I can't remember if I said this would be a HEA but if I did I'm sorry if that's not the way this is looking for you. I wanted to pay a little homage to Declan but since he was a source of evil in this story, I wanted to remain at a distance and not explore his funeral in too much depth. That's why I have explored Emily's emotional reaction and used the surviving members of the Hotchner family to channel those feelings. <strong>

**I hope you enjoyed reading it even if you couldn't like it and I promise that I won't stay away for too long again, I already started on the next chapter so it shouldn't be long. **

**I hope I caught all the edits, if not please forgive me. **

**Thank you as always for reading, you really do mean the world to me and I appreciate every review and comment and even just knowing that people read this – after almost a year. Wow. It does mean so much. **

**Love always**

_**X~Michelle~X**_


	15. Awakening

**Hey lovely people, **

**Thank you so much for all your support on the previous chapter, it means so much to me. I know it was a tough chapter and I hope that you will stick with me through the turn this has taken, I am known for my HEA – happily ever afters – but don't always trust me Ok? **

**I hope that you enjoy this one and let me know what you think. **

**My author's note is the same as ever: I DO NOT own Criminal Minds its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogues will be clearly marked in italics.**

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><p><em>~ "Children are the anchors that hold a mother to life~ Sophocles. <em>

She said nothing for a moment, observing the image in front of her and realising that whilst it might have initially frightened her half to death, now it endeared her more than anything else. He lay on their bed, his head rested against the headboard and the shirt he had been wearing all day unbuttoned, its sleeves rolled up. Laid on his chest, her cheek pressed against his heartbeat, was their daughter. She could see even from this distance that the little girl's cheeks were enflamed with effort and bore evidence of the tears she had been crying all night.

"Jack finally went down." She told him as she closed the door behind herself, noticing the way she automatically adjusted her voice to accommodate Thea who whilst still grizzling, had settled a little.

She stood awkwardly inside the door, almost as if she wasn't sure she should really be in here anymore and as he turned his attentions from their daughter towards her he offered her a weak and strained smile as she sat on the edge of the bed curling her left leg beneath her. Although he felt the effects of it deep in his heart, he remained tight-lipped about the distance she had placed between them. "You know, you don't have to stay in there with him until he falls asleep every night. I think we have the nightmares under control." He realised after he had said it of course that it probably sounded harsher than he had intended it to be.

"I know that." She told him, her tone equally as cold as she picked at a non-existent thread on the comforter.

He watched her sitting there, looking like that comment was the worst thing he could have ever said to her and honestly, he didn't have the first idea how to fix it. He wanted to touch her, to make it better, but somehow that simple action didn't seem possible or appropriate.

"Hey, I know Jack really loves it when you read to him before bed. I also know he really appreciates cuddling with you." He tried to assure her but it was little consolation.

"Thanks, it's really the least I could do for him." She mumbled, again Jack's sacrifice hung between them heavily.

"Emily I... I'm sorry I wasn't there for you today."

"What are you talking about? You held my hand the whole way through it; it means a lot to me that you would do that in spite of everything." She told him, feeling like she was talking to a stranger.

"Don't be silly, you're my wife and I'll be there for anything you need, you know that. Besides, I didn't mean today, I meant just now. I should have come to check on you and I'm sorry that I didn't." He told her and she had to admit it felt entirely alien to hear that word 'wife' now. She didn't think that they had reminded each other of their marriage for at least the two weeks since Declan's death and to hear him say it so casually and yet with such feeling reminded her that they were in fact husband and wife.

"You were busy looking after Thea... which is exactly what I should have been doing." She seemed to regret not having been more involved today or indeed for a number of days since she had been born.

"Emily I understand you know, this is hard for you and I know the reason why. That's why I'm trying to do everything I can to help, but right now, what I think she needs is you. She's hungry – she missed her evening feed and she needs a cuddle with her Mommy." He told her, redirecting her attention to their child.

"I'm really sorry Aaron. I _really_ am. I know I shouldn't be like this with her and I'm trying but it's just so hard, harder than I imagined." She admitted finally, after two weeks of trying to dodge the issue.

"I know and it's not fair that you're having these feelings, I know how excited you were about Thea's arrival and I just can't forgive what happened for taking away that excitement."

"Am I a bad Mom Aaron?" She asked, the words catching in her throat. "Only, I've been thinking about what I almost did... I keep thinking about the fact that she might not have even been born..." She continued before he had the chance to reply.

"Emily. Stop. Going down that road is not going to do any good. You are doing a great job so far and Ok, I'm not saying that any of us have adjusted to this properly yet and it certainly isn't perfect but you're her mother and that's all that she needs you to be. You're _not_ a bad mother or a bad person at all, you just need a little extra help right now and that's fine. It's just about taking small steps and building up. You're fine honey, I promise." He consoled her, trying to reassure her that she really wasn't doing the poor job she had assumed she had been. Sure, they needed to work on some things, but what new family with a new baby didn't?

"I just worry that I'll hurt her or that I'll love her too much or not enough or that I'll try to turn her into a substitute she could never be and I'd never want to hurt her in any way."

"Emily you could never do that. Thea is ours – yours and mine and she has a different kind of love surrounding her to the love that surrounds Jack and the love that surrounded Declan. As long as you love her in the way that you can, it's going to be Ok."

"You promise?" She asked, knowing this was slightly infantile.

"I promise." He soothed. "Now, are you going to feed our hungry baby here? Because I know I could use a cuddle with her Mommy later." He murmured and suddenly she felt a slight surge of desire for the first time in a fortnight and it felt so good.

She nodded her acceptance and shifted up the bed to sit beside him. "Put her down for a sec, I need you to help me with my dress please." She directed him and watched as he settled their child on the pillows for a moment and she scooted closer to him.

His fingers closed around the tiny button at the top of the dress and quickly unfastened it. As he parted the fabric for her, he couldn't help letting his fingers brush along her spine and he was pleased that unlike this morning, he gained a more hopeful reaction from her.

She arched her back into his touch, her breath contracting as the fingers on his left hand traced the smooth skin. She remembered this morning when he had tried to initiate this contact and she had shrugged him off coldly, having felt nothing. Now was an entirely different story. She felt as if she had been awakened, as if she was emerging from the shadows of the past two weeks and suddenly she realised with astounding clarity, how much she loved him and always would. She felt him ease the dress from her shoulders and quickly shucked it off, reaching across the bed for the slightly ill-fitting night gown she had taken to wearing when she fed Thea but he prevented her, settling a hand on the back of her neck and dropping a kiss to her shoulder.

"Leave it." His voice was deep and throaty.

"Aaron... I'm supposed to be feeding our daughter, not putting on a show for you." She told him, laughter in her tone.

"Mm well I find you really sexy when you're in 'Mommy mode', I can't help it – It just seems to come so naturally to you, even if you disagree." He told her – stopping any protest she could make before dropping his head again and caressing her skin as he eased the strap of her bra from her shoulder.

"Aaron..." Her tone was one of warning but she leant back into his touch, which he took as a good sign. "I need to see to Thea."

"_There_ you are." He sighed contentedly, a happy smile spreading across his face.

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><p>She nestled Thea against her, cradling her as she had done on countless occasions, but feeling different about this now than any of the previous times. Before, she had found this to be a perfunctory part of her day, something she barely needed to give consideration to but now everything seemed different. Perhaps it was the fact that Aaron was watching her and that put her back in touch with her identity as a woman, or perhaps it had more to do with the loss she had sustained and the realisation she had come to that she had to move on, but suddenly for the first time in two weeks, she felt like a Mommy and that feeling was so good.<p>

Thea fed hungrily and for a moment she felt guilty at not having given her what she had needed sooner, but as she looked down into the eyes of her daughter, she saw nothing but adoration and forgiveness. To the little girl, this was the greatest love she could have received and it cost Emily nothing but a little time. As she watched her child in fascination, she couldn't help but let her fingers brush the soft skin of her cheek, forging a connection additional to the functional one they had already established. She heard Thea let out a small, satisfied sigh and she knew that she had made her happy. It really wasn't a complex thing at all, all she wanted was her attention, her love and Emily knew that she could give her those things. Finally.

Her daughter drew back then and released a little yawn which told her mother she was full and happy but just as she was about to the lift her into her arms, she felt the soft pulling of her gums against her skin once more and she let herself rest back against the firm and supportive wall of her husband's chest.

"Well, you are a hungry girl aren't you?" Aaron spoke softly his words tickling at Emily's shoulder as he began to ghost his lips against her again.

"Mm hmm, she is." Emily agreed, although neither could be sure of whether she was indeed talking about their daughter or her at this point.

He pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to her back and felt her sharp intake of breath as she allowed herself to sink just a little further back into his welcoming embrace. "I've really missed you Emily. I've missed you like this – as my wife and her mother." He told her.

She was quiet for a moment as she watched Thea's eyes begin to close in calm contentment. After a minute she turned to him, ready to make her reply. "I know. I'm sorry. I missed this too, I just didn't realise how much – how far away from you all I seemed to be, until now." She told him honestly, turning further towards him, careful to support the baby, as she leaned in and kissed him – the first proper kiss they had shared since the day Thea had been born.

"I think the little one is ready to go down, don't you?" He asked his voice tender but his eyes wild.

"Mmm hmm." She mumbled, grabbing her night gown and easing herself from the bed so as not to rouse her from her slumber.

"I do love you Thea Hotchner. I love you a moment more than the sun will shine, a second longer than your heart will beat. I'll love you forever." She promised as she exited, carrying the sleeping infant into the adjoining nursery.

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><p>For what felt like hours, Emily leaned over the crib, staring down at their little miracle. She found herself smiling uncontrollably as she watched her face go through an array of expressions as she slept and she knew she would never tire of these moments when all was quiet and she could simply watch. This child truly was a miracle and she was a wonder and tonight, she had awakened her mother's maternal instinct without even realising it. Of course, she had been Thea's mother since the moment she had been conceived, at least that was what JJ had told her when she had told her friends the news, but Emily knew that if this was true, she hadn't exactly been the best mother in the world. What she knew now, with a clarity which surprised her, was that she loved her daughter. Sure, it was a very different way to the way she had loved Declan and indeed it differed from the way she had grown to love Jack. With Thea, there had been difficulties – of circumstance, of self-imposition but as she thought back on it, the knowledge that she loved her daughter was not new. From the moment she had laid eyes on this tiny pink bundle, she had been in love. Completely, totally and potently. It had just taken a while for her to remember that and now she promised herself and sent a silent promise to Thea that she would never again allow herself to forget it.<p>

She brushed her finger down the side of Thea's cheek and had to work hard to control the gasp which almost escaped her as Thea reached up and clasped her fingers in an iron grip, her eyes flying open. For that one moment in time, she felt as if she could look right through the dark orbs of her daughter's eyes and into her very soul. The pair regarded each other calmly for a moment before her eyes flicked closed and she sucked her lips together as sleep finally took her.

"I love you little darling." Her mother murmured before retreating.

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><p>When she rejoined him, Emily found Aaron propped against the pillows, his shirt still undone and his face slightly haggard in that dishevelled and sexy way and as she shed the night gown and headed for the bed, she saw his eyes flash with promise.<p>

"Did she go down alright?" He asked.

"Mm hmm." She mumbled and was quiet for a moment as she thought. "You know, I think we're going to be Ok." She told him as she crawled up the bed and settled her head against his chest.

"I think so too." He agreed, reaching down and kissing the tip of her nose.

They were silent for a moment, but unlike so many of the fourteen previous nights when they had found themselves this way, the silence was not awkward.

"Aaron..." She started, angling her head towards him a little.

"Mm?"

"I love you. You know that right?" She asked her thumb and forefinger casually catching in the sporadic and soft whorls of dark hair dusting his chest.

"I do." He replied, taking a moment to appreciate the sentiment. "But it doesn't hurt to hear it again now and then." He told her.

"What if I showed you?" She asked, her voice already thick with the lust she had felt she had lost.

"Well that _would _be nice." He replied, laughter colouring his tone as he felt her pull away from him and lift her knee so that she could straddle him.

"Emily..." He mumbled as she leaned forward to cover his mouth.

"Hmm?" She muttered, slightly frustrated.

"I love you too." He told her as he accepted her kiss...

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><p><strong>Well there it is. I hope that you liked it. After getting so many comments about Emily's depressive tendencies in the previous chapter, I would like to say that I'm sorry if any of you were distressed by it. I know this story isn't my usual cheery self, but I wanted to explore something new. With this chapter my main intention was not to counteract what I had just done, because what would be the point of that? But instead I wanted to instil a little hope for Emily and Aaron that they can get through this. <strong>

**Please do feel free to let me know what you thought and try to forgive any edits I have missed. **

**There'll be more on this but I have some overdue work to do on my other story, so I'll be back as soon as I can. **

**Thank you for reading and supporting this and as a consequence, me. It means the world to me and you are ultimately the reason why I keep on coming back. Thanks you lovely lot. **

**Love, **

_**X~Michelle~X**_


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